Repaying the Favor
by PeaKay
Summary: Alternate Universe. It's been one year since Jill has saved Wesker's life. It's been one year since Wesker has owed his life to Jill. Now, she calls upon her captain for the most bizarre, unusual and awkward favor in return. WeskerxJill, others.
1. And So It Begins

**Since this is an alternate universe, here are some things to clear everything up before you start the story:**

-The current year is 1998.

-Jill has been in S.T.A.R.S. for five years.

-S.T.A.R.S. has been established for seven years.

-I am going to try to keep the character as close to their game-counterparts as possible, but they will be slightly different due to the situations and relationships. So, excuse any OOCness.

-This story is rated M for some violence, language, minor drinking, adult and sexual situations. There will nothing too intense. I mainly rated the story M just to be safe.

**The story will include numerous pairings, some nearly canon and others completely crack. I did have a list but some changed, some stayed the same, and I don't want to spoil anything for you! XD**

**The ages have been altered also. The ages of the major characters are as follow:**

Jill is 30

Chris is 32

Wesker is 38

Rebecca is 24

Richard is 29/30

Enrico is 42

Joseph is 30

Barry is 44

Claire is 25

Brad is 30

Steve is 24

**Since that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy the story. Feedback is appreciated!**

**-Peachykatara**


	2. Regretting Those Words

**Welcome to the first chapter. I hope this story does well. It will mainly focus Jill x Wesker, although the romance will have some building up to...a lot of building up to XD**

**NOTE: This will be the ONLY chapter in Jill's point-of-view, unless stated otherwise. The rest will be in regular POV. The words in bold and italics represent Jill's thoughts. Regular type is in the present and is a conversation between Jill and Wesker.  
**

**Disclaimer: Resident Evil does not belong to me, but if it, well, would I honestly be writing fanfiction?**

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"Is there something you needed to tell me in private?"

_**There is nothing more unnerving than that gaze of his. Even though I couldn't see his eyes from behind those sunglasses, I could feel them staring right into mine.**_

"Yes, there was. Um, do you want to sit down?"

_**I remembered my rookie days as a Bravo team member. Captain Enrico and Captain Wesker took turns drilling us, but it was Wesker who brought the S.T.A.R.S. down onto their knees in pain. I hated him. I loathed his very existence.**_

"Is there something bothering you, Jill?"

_**I could remember one drilling session very well. It was a five-mile race through the woods that surrounded the outskirts of Raccoon City. We would be ranked depending on how we finished. I had pushed myself harder than I ever had, and when we had reached the end, my legs gave out and I collapsed into the dirt. I was so happy it was over. I managed to come third in results.**_

"No...no. It's just...it's been one year since, you know."

_**All of a sudden, I could hear a rich, velvet voice speak above me.**_

_**"No dropping over the finish line. Twenty push-ups."**_

_**Disbelief and rage fought for control. Disbelief eventually won. "What?"**_

_**"You heard me, Valentine. Hurry up."**_

_**I hesitantly picked myself off the ground and did the push-ups. The others? They just stood there and watched. I, on the other hand, was cursing my captain with every swear word under the sun. If he had heard, he never let on.**_

"Yes, I know. I'm in still in your debt; you did take those bullets for me, after all."

_**On my first field mission, S.T.A.R.S. was dressed in police uniforms, instead of our regular S.T.A.R.S. attire. We were filling in as security in a three-story shopping center. Joseph, Forest, and myself were the newest recruits, so Captain Enrico came up with the idea to prepare us. We ended up branching off with superior officers. Since Barry was missing, I was paired with Wesker. I wasn't used to being around him on my lonesome, especially since he never tried to make conversation, but the silence between us was comfortable. At that point, I still held resentment towards the man...I couldn't help but have respect for him though.**_

"What's this, the great Albert Wesker showing humility?"

_**It started off as a quiet day until I spotted a man lurking suspiciously near one of the passageways that led to the public washrooms. I pointed it out to the captain, and he gave me a nod of approval.**_

_**We continued to walk but kept our eyes on the man. It was only after a minute or two that we saw merchandise sticking out of his coat. We decided to approach him casually, to see how he would react.**_

_**"Excuse me, sir?" I called. We began to pick up pace as we neared him. As soon as he caught sight of us, he took off running down the passageway. We ran after him. I led Wesker as we took off the passage, since I was one of the faster members on our team. The passage divided halfway down, so we split up in order to trap him. I hooked a right and then sped down the straight stretch. He wasn't that hard to catch, so I took a leap of faith (literally) and tackled him, knocking him to the floor with a loud thud. I could hear various CDs clatter onto the floor tile as I picked myself up. The man stayed still. I thought it was safe to take my eye off him and glance at Wesker.**_

_**"It's alright," I told him. "He was shoplifting—"**_

_**"Valentine, watch it!"**_

"You're ignoring my question. I know you asked me here for a reason. What's going on?"

_**I looked over my shoulder to seeing a fist rocketing towards my face. Before I could react, I was suddenly grabbed and hunched over. I could hear the man's hand hit into something, making it grunt in pain. I then realized that Wesker had covered my body with his.**_

_**I didn't see what happened, but Wesker had released his grip on me and I could hear a jaw crack as someone threw a punch. The man stumbled back into the wall, swore loudly, and pulled out a switchblade. The sound of the blade flipping open made me swing around and I watched as the shoplifter was disarmed by Wesker, who kicked the knife out of his hands. He finally managed to pin him down after kicking his feet from under him, allowing me to slip the handcuffs onto his wrists. I was ordered to radio Enrico and Richard and have them escort him out. While we waited, Wesker, holding the shoplifter back with one hand, used his free hand to grab my shirt and pull me forward until our noses practically touched.**_

"Well, you know how you said that if there was any way you could repay me for saving your life, you would do it?"

_**"This isn't a game!" he shouted. The anger in his voice made me flinch. "You never, ever take your eyes off the criminal until they have been secured. Do you understand?"**_

_**That's when it hit me. I remembered the training session where he made me do push-ups for dropping over the finish line. Being a member of the Special Tactics And Rescue Service wasn't like being in a race. I couldn't give it my all just to cross the finish line, because what about what happens next? I'd be vulnerable to the next attack. You're not safe as soon you're over the finish line.**_

_**"Yes, sir. I-I'm sorry."**_

_**He roughly let go of me just as Enrico and Richard came running towards us. The situation was explained and they led the criminal out. Wesker and I stood there for a moment before he began to walk away. I noticed that with every step he took, he held onto his left shoulder even tighter. That was where the man had punched him.**_

"I do, and the offer still stands."

_**"Sir, are you alright?" My hand reached and gingerly touched his shoulder, but he shrugged my hand off.**_

_**"I'm fine."**_

_**That was the last thing he said to me that day.**_

"That's good to hear because, well, I need help, but I don't know who to ask. You're sort of my last resort..."

_**Wesker was the one who taught me what it takes to survive, to flourish. I had him to thank. As time went on, I found myself thinking more and more about him. I wanted to show him that I could save people...that I wasn't a screw-up...a waste of time.**_

"You have been distracted at work lately. I would be lying if I said I hadn't noticed."

_**"Remember; don't try to be a superhero. Acting reckless will only do more harm than good." That is what Captain Wesker told us in one of our regular briefings.**_

_**That day, those words were easy to understand. I was not one to act reckless; it just wasn't part of my nature. I believed that any good policeman would think their every move through, no matter what the circumstances were. I had matured; I learned from my mistakes. But, in actual situations, it's a lot harder to grasp.**_

_**Exactly one year ago, I saved my captain's life.**_

"Actually, it's more of a personal trouble. It doesn't concern work...but it might concern you."

_**It was a warm summer's day in Raccoon City, but the weather was not to be enjoyed. S.T.A.R.S. had been called in to try and arrest a notorious drug gang that had been swarming the city's streets for quite some time. Apparently, there weren't doing their work in secret anymore. Right in the middle of a bank, the leader, Joey Marone, began tearing the place apart. It was obvious he was high on some kind illegal substance...I had guessed heroine.**_

_**It was hard to believe what one man and one weapon could cause. There was sudden up-rise of panic in downtown Raccoon City. The commotion became overwhelming! The police scattered around the outside of the bank while S.T.A.R.S. was given orders to infiltrate the building.**_

"I see. Well, go on. I'm listening."

_**Marone had ordered everyone to the cubicle level on the third floor. Kenneth and Chris were situated across the street. In case Marone became out-of-control, Chris would snipe him out. Only under desperate measures, Wesker told him. Kenneth had connected his camera and Joseph's so that Chris could see the situation. Enrico, Richard and Barry were on the first and second levels. Joseph set the cameras up in the third room, with Forest beside him for protection in case Joey Marone noticed their presence. As for Wesker and I, we would face Joey headfirst. We didn't want him to hurt anyone. We wanted him to surrender.**_

"Over the last few months, I've been considering starting a family. It's been leading to a dead end."

_**We slipped into the room unnoticed. Joey Marone was screaming and yelling, pointing the gun rapidly at anyone who dared to even shift. I'll never forget his face. He had the face of a man who was on his last chance: a man who was about to step over the edge and off a cliff. His eyes were wild.**_

_**We moved from one cubicle to the next, moving slowly and cautiously. We didn't want to surprise him. If we did, it guaranteed someone getting shot.**_

_**After ten, extremely tense minutes, we were face-to-face with Joey. Wesker began to advance towards him, calm as ever. "Put the gun down, Marone. We don't want anyone getting hurt."**_

_**"You son-of-a-bitch!" he screeched, making the hostages cower in fear. "You fucking police think you own the world, that you're better than everybody! Well," –his gun pointed away from us and towards one of the hostages-"who's going to stop me now?"**_

"And how does this concern me?"

_**In a split second, what seemed like a drastic situation going well (under the circumstances) turned into complete chaos. The trigger was pulled and a bullet went into a man's leg, causing everyone to scream. He then aimed at a mother holding her six-year-old son.**_

_**Wesker and I took action. With a well-aimed bullet, I shot the magnum out of Marone's hands, leaving him unarmed. Wesker took advance of this by slamming him to the ground on his stomach. Joseph and Forest had rushed over to the wounded man, yelling to us that he was alive. Relief washed over me as soon as I heard the words.**_

_**It was at that moment that we heard a gun go off below.**_

"I've been trying to make any relationship I had work, but none of them lasted. I couldn't imagine myself growing old and having a family with any guy that I was dating. This is where you come in."

_**Wesker, who was busy trying to restrain Marone, didn't pay much attention to it. I had not either, if I was truthful. Seeing him struggle, I bent down to help him. I pinned Marone's arms to floor after he got a swing at Wesker and knocked his sunglasses off. Once he was controlled, I spared a glance towards Joseph and Forest. Forest gave me a thumbs-up as Joseph attempted to halt the bleeding by bandaging it.**_

_**The emergency door slammed open. A second man had entered play. His gun was aimed at Wesker. There were frantic footsteps coming up the fire escape behind him.**_

_**There wasn't enough time to warn Wesker to move. I did the only thing I could do: protect him.**_

_**"Watch out!"**_

_**I placed myself in the line of fire.**_

_**BANG! BANG!**_

"You do realize how ridiculous you sound right now? Get to the point."

_**Two bullets pierced my flesh, splattering blood over Wesker and the floor. The impact from the bullets sent us flying back three feet, and I could have sworn that a stick of dynamite had just gone off inside me. The sound of my name being called was lost among the gunfire and the panic. It was the first time I saw Wesker's stone mask completely shatter. A look of horror washed over his face as my body shrunk into the fetal position, my breath coming out short and harsh. A cold, crimson substance covered the floor around me. A white haze covered my vision, and I couldn't speak. I wanted to say, "Help, get me help!" but I couldn't even whisper...let alone scream. I really wanted to scream when Chris sniped the man with a bullet to the head, and he dropped to the floor, his eyes meeting mine. I nearly threw up.**_

"Give me a chance, and maybe I will!"

_**There was a comforting hand placed on my shoulder. I looked up and met Wesker's eyes. His face looked drained. It scared me when I saw blood covering his face and uniform: my blood.**_

_**"...Ambulance...way..."**_

_**"Good, stay...give her air..."**_

_**"Jesus...happened?"**_

_**"...shot..."**_

_**"...Enrico, too...alright..."**_

_**"Jill, stay...us...okay?"**_

_**"...scumbags..."**_

"I'm getting impatient, Jill. Spit it out."

_**The words were blurred and the voices sounded far away. I was soon held in Wesker's arms as the ragged S.T.A.R.S. team left the building. On my way out, I saw Enrico sitting on a desk in the lobby with Richard. His right shoulder was bleeding, but he didn't seem to be in pain. Our eyes met. His eyes widened with surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but was held back by the medic examining him.**_

_**The warm breeze greeted me as soon as the doors opened. Ambulances were parked outside. News reporters and crowds of people were held back by the police. I was strapped to a gurney and placed inside. An oxygen mask was slipped over my mouth and nose, and my heart began to slow. The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was the paramedic smiling at me, reassuring me that everything would be okay.**_

"I want a baby, okay? I don't want to wait what might be five, maybe even ten years before 'Mr. Right' comes along! I don't want a Mr. Right. I want a baby! But I can't have one without a father and—"

_**Wesker was the first one to visit me when I was feeling well enough for visitors. He brought me a small bouquet of flowers, but insisted that it was from the R.P.D. Since the idea of Wesker bringing me flowers was far-fetched, I believed him. I tried to make conversation, but Wesker went straight to business, as usual.**_

_**"That was the stupidest, most idiotic stunt you could have pulled," he said. "Now I have to live with the fact that I owe my life to you."**_

_**I tried to be humble. "Really, Captain, you would've done the same thing. Any of us would—"**_

_**"Jill, if there is anything I can do for you, let me know."**_

_**"Anything?"**_

_**"Think of it as...repaying the favor."**_

_**I grinned. "Thank you. Really, I mean it."**_

"And...?"

_**All of a sudden, Chris, Barry, Joseph and Richard, among the others, burst through the door. In their arms they held nearly everything from balloons and teddy bears to cards and bottles of champagne. I burst out laughing at the goofy expression on Chris' face. I could see Enrico (it turned out that Marone's buddy had shot at him and nearly missed. The bullet skimmed by Enrico's arm, causing him to bleed and distracted the others, which explained how the man got upstairs; Enrico had been treated and released within a few hours), Edward, Brad and Kenneth with Wesker on one side of my bed. Chris, Barry, Joseph and Forest lined up on the left side. What Wesker had said was long forgotten. It was only after I was out of the hospital that I remembered his words.**_

"And...I was hoping, since I saved your life and all, you would—"

"What?"

"That _you_ would father it!"

Absolute silence.

And could you believe he actually fainted?

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**I know what you're thinking, but it will all be explained in the upcoming chapter :P Until then, I hoped you found this chapter enjoyable!**

**Read and review!**

**-Kendell**


	3. Dilemma

**First chapter and four reviews? Wow, thanks everyone!**

**This is a super-quick update, I know. I spent most of my day either going outside or writing this story. I can honestly say my fingers hurt XD I'm hoping to update this story once every one or two weeks. So keep reading! **

**Disclaimer: Tom Felton is NOT the creator of the pairing Jill x Wesker, and I'm not really sure WHO is. I guess I should mention something about Capcom owning Resident Evil, but in the end, you don't really care, do you? :P**

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Okay, so Jill had not been _completely_ truthful. If she was truthful, however, she would have mentioned the fact that she wished he had fainted. Or dropped dead. Anything would have been better than watching him bore a hole through her. The feeling wasn't pleasant.

"You want me to what?" The disbelief in his outraged voice was enough to make her cower in fear. What had she been thinking? _How did I convince myself that this would be a good idea? How?_

"Just...just hear me out."

"What makes you think I should?"

"Because, I know how it sounds, alright? All you have to do—"

"So, you called me here, to your house," Wesker paused, trying to grasp the situation, "so I would have sex with you?"

A mix of disgust and horror washed over Jill's face. "What? That's all you got out of that conversation? Sex? That's not what I'm talking about at all!"

Wesker scoffed. "Well, when you start talking to me about fathering your children, one tends to wonder. I apologize, Jill. I completely blew everything out of proportion."

"Just sit down and listen, okay? Please..."

Wesker had a feeling that he was going to regret it, but he seated himself on the couch. Jill sat down across from him, her cheeks glowing pink. He wasn't sure if it was due to embarrassment or anger. He guessed both.

"I first considered going to a sperm bank and getting artificially inseminated, but the thing holding me back is that I won't know the father."

"Isn't that the point of a sperm bank?" Wesker asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the leather. "Beggars can't be choosers."

Never had she wanted to break her captain's jaw as much as she did that moment. She clenched her knuckles, taking a deep breath so she didn't have an outburst. Maybe if he would just let her finish..."I don't want to have to deal with the father, true. I want to raise the child on my own, and the way that I want. I've thought it through...I know that being a single mother and having the kind of the job that I do will make things difficult, but I'm willing to do it. I don't want to have to wait any longer."

"This sounds more like a mid-life crisis than a 'personal trouble.'"

"Jesus, Wesker, I'm thirty, not forty-five!" she shouted, losing her temper. "It's not about me being worried about growing old alone and childless! I'm tired of coming home to the house being empty and silent. I only have a cat to take care of, and you can only love a pet so much." She sighed, and Wesker noticed the sadness in her eyes. "I want to be able to come home, tired and sore from work, and be greeted by sounds of life. I would rather be worn out 24/7 than feeling lonely all the time." She knew that she was making a fatal mistake by doing so, but she couldn't help but speak her thoughts aloud. "You must know what it's like...to hear the silence."

Wesker shifted in his seat. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. Sure, she was right; he did hear the silence at home. That didn't mean he was going to go up a random intern at the R.P.D. and say, "Hello there, I was hoping that you would be ever so kind and have my babies." Wesker gave Jill an once-over. She was rather attractive. He didn't see how she would be having relationship trouble. She should have found a proper boyfriend easily. But that was beside the point. Wesker, for once, was utterly confused. He had so many questions, yet he wasn't sure how to even ask them. What was he getting himself into?

"I have family nearby who would be more than willing to help. I would manage, if I had the chance." Her voice broke his train of thought but he remained silent. There was a pregnant pause before he finally spoke.

"Then, wouldn't a sperm bank be the way to go?" By the way the words rolled off his tongue, Wesker made the whole situation seem a whole lot simpler. Jill wished she had his way with words. To him, she probably sounded like she belonged in a mental ward. She mentally cursed him for being so collected. Even when he lost his temper, he had it all together. "That would seem to be the most reasonable solution to your..." –the way he motioned to her stomach made Jill wonder if she looked pregnant already—"situation. There would be no fuss, no father to deal with. It makes perfect sense to me."

"If I wanted it that way, I could have just let one of those dead-beats I usually end up dating get me pregnant." She spoke the words quick and harshly, but after she took a breath, she began to smile and let her eyes break eye-contact. "I want to look at my baby and know where it got its nose from or why it likes the sound of the music or why it forms dimples when it smiles. I just want to be able to...to know my child, not just the pieces that belong to me." Her voice drifted off and she forced herself to face Wesker. His face had not changed. His eyes were slightly narrowed and he seemed to be in deep thought.

Indeed, he was. Wesker could understand her reasoning, but he had never got to the question he was really curious about. "Out of all the people you could have asked, why did you come to me?" He was slightly amused when her eyes widened at the question. Didn't she expect him to ask sooner or later?

"I need someone who I know and trust. I can't just ask anyone. Plus, I did have a bit of an advantage with the whole 'saving your life' thing," she answered. Jill couldn't help but smirk when she finished speaking. She still had that ace up her sleeve. Wesker glared at her.

"If I were you, I would have asked Chris. God knows he has been dying to jump your bones since you joined S.T.A.R.S."

If Jill had been so taken back at what he said, she might have noticed the edge to his words. Her face reddened with anger. "How dare you speak about Chris and me like that? You have no right to speak about him like that when he isn't here to defend himself!"

"This is exactly what I mean," Wesker stated calmly. "You two have been best friends ever since you've joined. The whole station practically knows the extent of his feelings for you. As for us, well, we have never been what you would call 'friends' and we never seem to have a civil conversation without arguing. You should have asked him in my opinion."

"Well, maybe from what you see, he would be the better option. But I don't want to ask him. I'm asking you. You're the only person I know that wouldn't become attached or want to kick-start a relationship or try to control the way I raise the baby. With Chris...it's like what you said, he wants more than a friendship." A pang of guilt hit her stomach. "I love him, but as a friend. I told him that. If I asked him to do this for me, I think it would just lead him on."

"So," Wesker drawled, ignoring how solemn Jill had become, "it's either me or no one at all." She gave him a short nod in reply. Taking in a deep breath, he placed his head in his hands before running his fingers through his gelled hair. Today was definitely a day of firsts for Wesker, all thanks to Officer Valentine. He had only one more question nagging at his mind, and it was about the task itself. "Even if I did agree to this, how would it work?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, oblivious.

_Of all times to be thick..._

"What I meant was: if we don't want to go the obvious route, then we need to find an alternative to get you pregnant."

"That's relatively simple," Jill fibbed, knowing that nothing about this situation was simple...or normal. "You donate your sperm to a sperm bank, I request it, and I get artificially inseminated."

"Uh, no, Jill." Wesker shook his head, laughing. "I refuse to have random women off the street coming into a building, getting my sperm and having my spawn all over the place. No, that wouldn't work."

"Believe me, I wouldn't want that either. One of you is enough." It was evident by the smirk on his face that Wesker was amused by her irritability. She didn't see what was so funny. "You could privately donate. If we booked an appointment, we would meet up with one of the professionals and your...er, you know—"

"Sperm?" Oh, yes, he was definitely enjoying this. The need to break his jaw rose up inside Jill once more.

"Yes, I'm not stupid, thank you. As I was saying, they can arrange it so that your donation is kept private and available only to me."

"Even so..." Wesker didn't bother to continue. Instead, he stood up and walked up to the nearest wall, leaning his back against it and tilting his chin up. The room stayed quiet for a few minutes as the two thought over what had been said. The tension became so thick that Jill got up and walked into the kitchen, making herself a sandwich for lunch. Wesker stayed put.

"Jill."

She didn't bother respond to her name. She continued to make her sandwich when she realized that Wesker was standing in front of her, just on the other side of the counter. Jill placed the knife in her hand on the counter-top and waited for him to speak.

"I can't do it."

Jill promised herself that she wouldn't get her hopes up. Why should she? She was asking her captain, Albert Wesker, the tyrant of Raccoon City itself, to help her have a baby. There wasn't even the slightest chance that he would agree. But during their conversation, her hope began to build. The stupid notion of everything going right didn't seem so preposterous. Then, as soon as the silence came, reality began to set in. Jill just didn't want to face it.

"I understand."

"When I said that I would do anything, I never thought you would need something like this." The tone in his voice seemed to say, "I'm sorry," but he never said it.

"I tried, that's what matters." Jill put on a shaky smile and hoped he wouldn't see through it. He did. "I just hope that this won't make anything awkward between us."

"It won't," he told her in an assuring tone. "I hope everything goes well, really, I do."

"I know."

Wesker decided that he should take his leave before anything else was said. Something about Jill told him he should stay, but the emotions in her voice warned him to leave, to get out, before she did something she would regret.

He cleared his throat. "I imagine I will see you at headquarters tomorrow."

"As always." Jill couldn't look at him. Not after what she had just asked of him. She heard him say, "Good day," before he left. Hearing the front door creak open and close shut, she knew she was truly alone. For the first time in years, Jill sat down on her couch and started to cry. She choked on sobs as she finally released everything that had been building up inside her for weeks.

Wesker had just gotten into his car when he realized that he had forgotten his overcoat. Letting out a groan of frustration, he got out of the car and slammed the door shut, causing the car to shake. He made a mental note not to take out anger on his vehicle.

Walking up to the door, he raised his hand to knock when he could hear a distinct sound coming from inside. Wesker listened, surprised to hear crying. Something resembling guilt built up in his throat, preventing him from speaking.

_No_, he thought,_ I do not feel guilty. I couldn't care less about Jill and her hormones. It's her problem; she will have to deal with it herself. _

Harsh, maybe, but it was the logic that Wesker followed. His coat was the last thing on his mind now. He couldn't stand listening to the crying anymore and got into his car. The engine roared to life and he drove off. Even as the house faded out of sight, Wesker kept thinking about Jill. Why did she think that he would even remotely consider helping her? He always tried to help his teammates, but this? She had more guts than he gave her credit for.

Jill should have known that he would not want anything to do with the situation. He didn't want a relationship, let alone kids. She said that he wouldn't have to be involved in their lives, but it would be sort of hard to avoid the fact that he had a son or daughter with a woman he couldn't stand half the time. Wesker liked the things were. He didn't need anything screwing it up now.

_...You just had to go and ask me, didn't you, Valentine?_

**Later that night...**

Jill had been wallowing in despair ever since Wesker had left. It wasn't really because he didn't want to do it, she understood why, but she had wanted a child so badly...so soon. Now, all she had to look forward were more lonely evenings in an empty house. _It could be worse_, she tried to console herself. _Wesker could have fired you on the spot. You could not even have your cat to keep you company and your feet warm at night. You could have asked Chris and he could have said yes. See? Things could be a lot worse_. For obvious reasons, this didn't help her feel better at all.

Now, in her pyjamas and with Tigger sleeping on her lap, she decided that she just needed a few nights-in alone before she was ready to face any of her friends. Usually, she would go out with Claire, Rebecca and a few other girls from work and go to different restaurants or see a movie. Lately, Jill had been making up excuses so she wouldn't have to go. Not because she didn't want to, but because her mind was so focused on so many different things that she knew she wouldn't have any fun. Jill made a decision. As soon as she got over the ridiculous notion of having a baby, she would just go out and not have a care in the world. Maybe she would even take her handgun and finally put a bullet in that bastard Chief Irons. Somebody was going to do it sooner or later, why not her?

Her rather violent daydreams were interrupted by a sudden banging on her door. Great, just as she was starting to feel a bit better. Making sure she didn't have any puffiness around her eyes from previous crying, she quickly checked her reflection in the mirror before heading towards the door. Whoever it was, they were some impatient. It was probably Joseph with a video or something.

Jill opened the door and came face-to-face with Captain Wesker. Oh no, not him. Not now. Not after she completely humiliated herself in front of him.

"Captain, what are you doing here? It's 9:30!" It was a beautiful July night, but that didn't give him any excuse to show up at someone's house so late. There was something missing. "Where's your car?"

"I walked. Really, Valentine, don't act dense." There was the captain Jill knew and loathed. She stepped out of the way to let him in and promptly closed the door. Jill took a few moments to stare at him. His hair, although still slicked back, wasn't as smooth as earlier that day. It turned out to be the consequence for Wesker's habit of running his fingers through his hair whenever he was in deep thought. His sunglasses were present, as usual. He was dressed casually, sporting black jeans and a navy blue, button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Now that she thought about it, it was nearly the exact same as the shirt he always wore underneath his S.T.A.R.S. vest. All that was missing was the badge on the shoulder. Even after working with him for five years, Jill could barely recognize him whenever she saw him in casual wear. It never seemed to fit him.

Gazing over his outfit made Jill realize what she was wearing: a black tank top and heavy cotton pyjama bottoms. She must have looked like she had just wrestled a rose bush. Was there a conspiracy against her? Jill was pretty damn sure there was.

Without a word, Wesker walked over to her closet and swung open the door. Jill wanted to ask if he had ever heard of manners, but bit her lip. He pulled out his coat and slipped it on. "I forgot my coat."

"I'm not blind."

"I can see that, pun not intended."

"Any reason you're wearing your sunglasses at night?"

Wesker stopped in mid-step and just stared at her. She stared back, waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to speak once, twice, and then closed it. "It's not important."

"Then what is?"

Wesker took slow, deliberate steps towards Jill until they were staring straight into each others eyes. "I'll do it."

Jill's cold front shattered. "W-what?"

"I'll do it." His face stayed blank as he turned and walked out the door, leaving Jill to stand there in complete shock.

_Yep, the world is __**definitely**__ conspiring against me..._

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**And this, my friends, is what will hopefully set the plot ball rolling.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :) Read and review!**

**-Kendell**


	4. Tension, Mutant Fishes, and Corey Hart

**Thank you for all the positive feedback. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

**This chapter is pretty bland. I like it, and I don't. I tried though. The story will pick up as time goes on. :)**

**Disclaimer: Albert Wesker is not, in any way, Corey Hart. Really.**

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It was hard trying to fall asleep when you had just struck a deal with the devil.

It was also hard trying to fall asleep when you couldn't understand why you agreed in the first place.

For two Raccoon City citizens, it was a very long night.

**The next day...**

The R.P.D. was bustling with people moving in and out. It was early morning, the worst part of the day for Wesker. He had just finished his second cup of coffee and desperately needed another. He barely slept at all.

Walking into the break room, he nearly collided with Rebecca Chambers. The youngest member of S.T.A.R.S. had only been in the force for roughly ten months. She, unfortunately, had that morning burst of energy that made Wesker cringe.

"Oh, morning, Captain!" Rebecca greeted, giving him a proper salute. _Wish I always felt that good in the mornings._

"Good morning, Chambers," he greeted back. "Do you have Kennedy's report filed?"

"Yes, I filed it as soon as I came in."

"Excellent work," Wesker commented, moving around her and grabbing a clean cup off the counter. He could feel Rebecca's lingering presence in the room. He slowly turned and faced her direction. "Is there something you need?"

"Well, actually, there is."

Wesker cocked an eyebrow. That sounded familiar. _Don't tell me she wants a baby too._

"Chris gave me a call this morning and told me he wasn't feeling well. He doesn't think he'll be able to come in today, but wanted you to know that he is still on-call if something comes up." She paused. "I wasn't sure whether to tell you now or later."

"Ah, at least we know where he is if we need him."

Rebecca grinned before walking out of the room. Wesker finished pouring the coffee into his cup and took a sip. At least there was some normality in his life today. Well, there would be until Valentine showed up for work.

As if on cue, Wesker watched Kenneth Sullivan hold the door open for Jill, whose arms were filled with a heavy stack of folders, through the upper floor window. The two laughed about something Kenneth had said before they made their way upstairs.

Thinking about what happened last night, Wesker knew that he would have to speak with her. Frankly, he wasn't looking forward to it. Then again, he never looked forward to anything.

**...**

The day was fairly quiet. Nothing happened that the police couldn't handle. Wesker liked it when the day was hectic. There was nothing worse than sitting behind a desk all day doing paperwork while listening to your co-workers sputter absolute nonsense to each other. Think he's just overreacting? He once listened to a ten-minute conversation between Brad, Joseph and Chris over slapping duels involving mutant fish.

Mutant. Fish.

Wesker snapped and ended up throwing paperweights at them. It wasn't pretty.

Needless to say, Wesker found the office irritating. Glancing up at the Emergency Broadcaster right in his field of view every minute or so didn't help pass the time either.

His sight drifted to Jill. She was sitting at her desk, her back facing him. Her beret was lying beside her on her desk, and she repeatedly fidgeted with her hair in an irritated fashion. She had the same office anxieties that he suffered. He wished he was in Enrico's place at that moment. Bravo team was sent on patrol, leaving Alpha team with what they called, "paper duty." He was going to strangle Enrico the moment he entered the R.P.D.

Jill came up to his desk. "Would you like me to file this, sir?"

He glanced up from behind his sunglasses and waved her off towards the file cabinets. Jill rolled her eyes and proceeded in the right direction. There was a loud squeaking sound as she pulled the drawer open. Wesker's nostrils flared.

"Can you at least try and keep it down, Valentine?"

His response was a very loud and very squeaky _slam_ as she shoved the drawer closed. He heard a snicker and quickly turned towards Joseph. If looks could kill, Joseph Frost would have never stood a chance. The moment he caught Wesker's glare he froze.

Joseph shut up immediately.

Wesker was about to talk to Jill once more, only to find her standing beside his desk. In one swift movement, she tossed a note into his lap and walked back to her desk. Curious, Wesker unfolded the note, reading the handwritten words that were indisputably Jill's.

_**We need to talk. My house, after work. –J.V.**_

That summed it up quite well. He crumbled the note up in his hand and tossed it into the waste bin. He didn't bother to send one in return. They both knew very well where they would be that evening.

They were both dreading it.

**That evening, after work:**

The sun had just set, and the sky, once streaked with gold and orange, faded into darkness. The streetlights were beginning to flicker, and the constant sounds of life in the city didn't settle. It was a sign that a long day's work was over. Unfortunately, for those who work in the R.P.D., work never ends, especially when you are on call day and night.

The S.T.A.R.S. office was strangely quiet and empty. Everyone had left for home, save for Wesker and Jill. They weren't the only ones in the police station, but you would have guessed they were. There were no criminals being shoved around or reports being written or co-workers chatting. Wesker and Jill might hate quiet days, but they took pleasure in peaceful nights. It meant a good night's rest.

"You said we needed to talk?" Wesker crossed the S.T.A.R.S. office in a matter of a few strides. He towered over Jill, waiting.

"I think we have a lot to talk about," she replied in a bold tone. Jill didn't want to let him intimidate her, but it was working. To cover it up, she took a step closer so that their chests nearly touched. He didn't falter.

"Indeed. However, we should discuss this in private." It was more of a demand than a suggestion.

Jill wanted to point out that they were the only two in the room, but let it slide. She would rather keep the situation at home, if she was truthful. She mentally prepared herself for a long night. She had a lot of questions. And she was going to make sure that Wesker gave a lot of answers. She needed to know just exactly what was going on.

Walking over to her desk, she grabbed her bag and began to search it. She listened to Wesker getting ready to leave in the background, only detecting the sound of drawers opening and closing and papers rustling. It suddenly dawned on her that what she was looking for, her car keys, wasn't with her. They were sitting back home on her kitchen counter.

"Something wrong?"

_Like you care. _"I forgot that Kenneth gave me a drive this morning." She sighed. "I don't have a ride home."

The sound of keys jingling caught Jill's attention. She looked up and saw Wesker holding a ring of keys. "Problem solved. We were going to meet at your house anyway, were we not?"

Jill smiled. "Thank you, Captain."

As usual, any manners wasted on the man went unnoticed. He grabbed his bag and left the police station, Jill close behind.

**...**

"You're not one for big speeches, are you, sir?"

"You're not one for peace and quiet, are you, Valentine?"

No reply.

Two minutes into the drive and they were already grating on the others last nerve. Jill watched Wesker's hands intently. Every so often he would grip the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. She pictured Wesker strangling her and carelessly throwing her body into a ditch.

Like she would let _that_ happen.

"I thought the whole point of this was to talk," Jill argued. "I need an explanation. You owe me that!"

"I agreed to do it. I thought you would have been a bit more appreciative, and yet you have the nerve to act like an ungrateful child."

Jill was indignant. "Don't you dare scold me! You don't do anything for anyone without an ulterior motive. What do you want? Why did you agree to it?"

"You know very well how it feels to have someone's blood on you."

Her mind flickered to the numerous times she reluctantly pulled the trigger on someone. Her blood ran cold. Wesker was focusing on one specific moment. His blood boiled.

Her voice came out soft. "Yes...I do."

"You don't know how it feels to have someone's blood on you because they were trying to help you. You don't know how it feels to look down and see someone lying in a pool of blood, knowing that it should be you. Not them."

Jill scanned his profile, trying to decode him. It was impossible. It was one of those rare times where her captain actually spoke like a human instead of a ruthless dictator.

"That's why I'm doing it," Wesker concluded. They came to a stop at a red light, but he never took his eyes off the road. "Pick your jaw off of my floor."

A rush of fury burned the back of Jill's neck. It was hard to be nice to a man who did everything in his power to humiliate and/or anger you. She bit her lip. She did feel a bit stupid for demanding answers so rudely though. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't think—"

"Of course you didn't."

Nothing else was said during the remainder of the drive.

As they pulled up in Jill's driveway, Jill winced as she relaxed her stiff shoulders. She had not moved the whole way there. The tenseness between her and her superior threatened to crush her. When she saw the familiar sight of her small (but cozy) white house, the knot in her stomach tightened. She regretted ever bringing Wesker into the picture. She regretted ever _speaking_ to the man.

The rumble of the engine stopped. Wesker got out of the car, the door slamming sharply behind him. She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle, only to have the door pulled out of reach. Wesker stood outside, holding the door open.

"I can't get inside unless you unlock the door," Wesker said. Jill vaguely wondered if he knew that he was being a gentleman by holding the door, but dismissed the thought when he reached over and pulled her out of the car. She elbowed him roughly in the ribs, releasing his grip on her arm.

"What is it with you? Why don't you just go ahead and murder me? You seem pretty intent on doing so."

"As pleasant as that sounds, I already enjoyed the feeling of having your blood on my uniform, thank you."

Now _that_ hurt. She tried to hide her frown from him as she unlocked the front door. Jill flicked the light switch, brightening up the living room. She turned on her heel and faced him. One minute, she was telling herself to give him a chance. The other, she wanted to challenge him to a full-out brawl. If there was one thing Wesker was good at, it was getting under people's skin. "You have an answer to everything."

Wesker smirked. "It's easy, especially when dealing with you."

Jill was left speechless. She looked elsewhere, avoiding the sight of him at all costs. She sat down on the couch, placing her head in her hands. There were footsteps and then there was someone else sitting on the couch beside her.

Wesker leaned closer to her to make sure she heard him. "If I took our jousting too far, I apologize, but only to clear the air." She hesitantly sat up straight, staring up at the ceiling. Wesker could see her mouth opening and closing, as if her mouth could form the words but her voice was mute. If he wasn't trying to be civil, he would have told her to spit it out by now.

"How are we ever going to do this?" groaned Jill. "I barely know a thing about you. You're never satisfied with what I do at work. We can't even talk to each other without fighting!"

"The last time I was here, you were telling me that you knew it was going to be hard, but that you were determined to make it work. How come today you're acting like you've given up?"

Another of Wesker's talents was how he dissected someone piece-by-piece. He knew every single detail, fact about his subordinates, through their files and through keen observation. Jill was a very stubborn woman. Challenging anything to do with her willpower or ability and it provoked her within milliseconds. Her eyes flashed when she saw Wesker's smug appearance.

"I am not giving up. I just feel like we will just run into one obstacle after the other and it will never go anywhere. What would be the point?"

As always, Wesker provided her with an answer. "To 'be greeted by the sounds of life,' and not silence?"

Jill contemplated what Wesker said. For the first time since getting shot, she was scared. Maybe scared wasn't the word. Maybe it was. All she knew was that she had been lost in a confused and fragile fog, which caused her to lose sight of the real goal: a baby.

The sad part was: her guide back into the clear light was Mr. Sunglasses-At-Night. And no, she didn't mean Corey Hart.

"Why does it seem that even though I'm the one that saved your life, I'm always the one giving thanks?"

Wesker rested his chin in his palm. "Maybe you give people too much credit."

Jill rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she grumbled, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"My point exactly."

Jill thought it was a good time to change the subject. Apparently, so did Wesker, for he managed to beat her to the punch.

"If, we are actually going to go through with this, there will be guidelines."

"Go on."

"First of all, no one is to know that the child is mine. Once you do reveal you are pregnant, you will tell everyone that you were artificially inseminated by an anonymous donor."

Jill pretended to mull it over. It insulted her that her superior thought so slowly of her intelligence...and everyone else's. "No, that won't do. I want everyone to know that the baby's yours so that I can name it Albert Junior."

Eye twitch.

"Oh, and if it's a girl...how about Alberta? I used to have a friend who lived in Alberta! She eventually moved to Nova Scotia to be closer to family. It's actually a pretty funny story..."

Wesker gritted his teeth.

"And if worst comes to worst, we could maybe name it Chris—"

"Enough, Valentine!" Wesker shouted. A vein distinctly throbbed in his neck. Instances like this are why Albert Wesker should go to anger management classes. "Don't utter another word."

"I apologize if I took our 'jousting' too far, sir," said Jill slyly. "I'm not stupid" –she could've sworn she heard Wesker mutter under his breath: "You certainly fooled me" – "and I want to keep this as private as possible. We could lose our jobs if the R.P.D. found out. Don't worry, I won't be telling the others that it was you who 'blessed' me with a child. They won't be the first to know anyway. The first person I am going to tell is Chief Irons."

"Irons?" The way Wesker pronounced the name was as if he had just described a landfill.

"Yes. That way, my pregnancy leave would be all sorted and he wouldn't hear the news through any gossip. In a team as close as S.T.A.R.S., nothing stays secret for long. Well, unless it concerns you."

Just as Jill expected, Wesker didn't react at all to what she had said last. It was common knowledge that Albert Wesker was a secret himself. No one knew anything about him, where he was born, who he was friends with, if he had any family, nothing. Hell, no one even knew where the man lived! What was known about Wesker was vague. He was a former head researcher for the Umbrella Corporation. He had worked there for years before joining the police force. He was incredibly brilliant, his intellect matching that of Rebecca Chambers, even surpassing hers. It showed best during missions. No matter how outrageous or off-the-wall his directions seemed, his plans worked flawlessly. Besides that, the Alpha team captain was a mystery.

What frustrated Jill the most was that Wesker knew everything about everyone else. He knew their birthdates, criminal records (if they had any), backgrounds, routines, weaknesses, strengths...Jill was surprised that he didn't know what color underwear everyone was wearing. You would think he would. The frightening thing was he probably did.

"Besides," Jill continued, "I wouldn't have to inform them until I'm well into my third month or so."

"Don't you think that's a bit late?" Wesker questioned. He pressed further. "You would start to show before that. They would notice if you started to gain weight."

"I have an athletic body. Women who are physically fit tend to show later on. But, to keep from starting an argument, how about I just break the news whenever I begin to show?"

Wesker listened to every word Jill spoke intently. He wanted to make sure that they were both on the same page. So far, so good. "I also do not want to have anything to do with the baby's upbringing. I'll father the child, but I will not pose as the father figure. I cannot see you having any objection with that, as you mentioned before you want to raise this baby yourself."

Jill nodded in agreement. "That's perfectly fine by me. I will manage on my own." She twiddled her thumbs before building up the courage to ask: "Would it be alright if I called on you while I was pregnant? You know, just here and there...in case something goes wrong."

"I wouldn't mind that. You're a strong woman, Miss Valentine," Wesker said. Even though it wasn't meant to insult her, Jill wanted to lash out at him for the use of the horribly annoying term "Miss Valentine." "You will be able to manage on your own, even as a mother."

"Was that a compliment, sir?"

"You may interpret it in any way you like." The tone he used seemed friendly, but his stoic expression conveyed nothing. Wesker had the ultimate poker face when it came to any kind of emotion...or socializing.

Jill squirmed in her spot until she had to stand up and walk around the room. There was only so much of Wesker's stare a person could take. She saw the phone book lying by the phone. She picked it up and brought it over to where Wesker sat, bringing the phone along as well. Together, they searched the pages for the number of a sperm bank.

Like many times before, Jill placed her trust in her captain. There was no hand to hold, so her free hand made use of the arm rest. Her eyes drifted to Wesker, who in turned lifted his head to give her a nod. She took a deep breath, and dialed the number.

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**And there ya go. :D  
**

**-Kendell  
**


	5. Some Things Never Change

**Whoo, finally, an update! :D **

**Hey, what's going on you guys? Sorry about the wait, exams are here and I've haven't been able to focus on writing as much I want to. In order to make up for the wait, I've made it long. You've got a lot of reading ahead of ya, folks!**

**Anyway, this chapter isn't particularly fantastic. I don't know, I guess it differs from person to person whether a lot happens in this chapter or not. It will take awhile before things get interesting, heh heh, lots of characters from the games will be making appearances in future chapters, so keep an eye out for them.**

**Disclaimer: Joseph's bringing sexy back..._yeah! _**

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"Joseph, you're so cool!" Rebecca cooed, entangling her arms around his muscular bicep. He flashed a dazzling smile in her direction, before his other arm was caught by another female.

"Don't be so naive, Becky..." a seductive voice purred. Red hair, bright eyes...it was none other than Chris' younger sister, Claire, the one who obviously inherited the good looks.

"Ladies, ladies please!" Joseph said, trying to take control of the situation. "I know that you've denied your passions for me for a long time, but let's take things nice and easy, you dig?"

The girls, in response, giggled.

Joseph was very, _very_ happy.

His happiness blossomed when an unexpected visitor plopped into his lap. Jill smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "What about me? Don't tell me you were going to leave me all alone."

"Of course not, Jilly. Nice to see you could come by."

Jill looked taken back. "What? Miss time with _you_? How could I pass up the opportunity?"

"Well," Joseph started, looking from one girl to the other, "now that we're all here, how about we begin our sexy session?"

"Oh, Joseph!" the girls shouted cheerfully in unison. "We love you!"

"**Frost..."**

Joseph groaned as he pushed the clingy (and desperate) women off of him and headed towards the door. Where was the sexy session happening this time?

...The S.T.A.R.S. office.

Great location choice, indeed.

"**Joseph..."**

Joseph looked between the door and the girls. _Maybe whoever's at the door will just go away_, he thought. A wide smile forming on his face, he turned on his heel and was about to pounce the scantily-dressed trio when-

_**THWACK!**_

"GOD DAMN IT, FROST! WAKE UP!"

Joseph's head snapped off his desk in a millisecond. For a minute, he was concerned with who was yelling at him, but then he finally realized the painful throbbing in his head. His hand, on impulse, reached up to hold the back of his head, but his hand flung itself away at the slightest touch. The spot was still tender.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Joseph Frost slowly glanced up to meet Wesker's burning gaze. The gaze had become very familiar to him since joining S.T.A.R.S.

Captain Wesker loomed over him, grasping a stapler in one of his hands. The fingers holding the stapler clenched and unclenched in a threatening rhythm. The worst part of the whole situation was that there was no Claire, Rebecca or Jill fawning over his form. Nope, just the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. team giving him sympathetic looks, even if they _had_ heard him mumbling Rebecca, Jill and Claire's names.

...Repeatedly.

"Joseph, whatever sick fantasies you have in your head...keep them there, for our sake." Wesker pointed the now dented stapler at Joseph's face. "Fall asleep one more time in my office, and I will fire you on the spot. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I was just-"

"Being perverted, yes. Be a pervert at home, Frost."

"I wasn't-"

"Get back to work, Frost."

"But, I-"

"Work. _Now_."

Joseph mumbled an apology and faced the paperwork he had slept on, then immediately left to get clean forms. He had drooled all over the original ones.

Walking back to his desk, Joseph casted a glance at Jill and noticed the metaphorical storm cloud looming over her head. He vaguely wondered if it was because of his daydreaming. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't control his hormones.

Then again, the Jill he knew had made a disappearance. In her place was a stranger. His ex-girlfriend had been oddly quiet the last few weeks. She was always sticking to the background, except for on missions, but even then she didn't run as fast or aim as well. From what Rebecca told him, she rarely went out with her and Claire anymore. Everything about her seemed off.

Speaking of off, the team was also concerned with Captain Wesker. Wesker was never the cheerful type, but in the last few days he went from Mr. Freeze to Mr. Norman Bates on Steroids. Richard once made the mistake of asking him how his day was. Wesker replied with an icy: "It was going fine until I woke up breathing."

Joseph sat himself on Jill's desk. When she didn't acknowledge his presence, he spoke up. "A problem shared is a problem earned."

"Do you like breathing?"

Silence.

"On second thought, ignorance is bliss..." Joseph muttered, making a hasty retreat back to his own desk. Jill breathed harshly out of her nose, chucking off her hat and running her hands through her hair.

She couldn't deny the inevitable.

July twenty-fourth was coming.

And both she and Wesker knew it.

"Jill?" The sound of a soft, feminine voice caught Jill's attention. She was greeted with Rebecca hovering over her. Rebecca kneeled at her desk and lowered her voice. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"I know I've been acting odd lately, but believe me, I'm fine."

"Is it something to do with the captain?"

_No, there's no way! She can't know! Please tell the girl isn't that smart! _Jill's inner voice screamed. There was no way she could know. Unless...

..._Unless Wesker already told her and sworn her to secrecy...no, the bastard has too much pride...but...maybe..._

"What do you mean, Rebecca?"

"It's just that you two have hardly said a civil word to each other in the last week. I know you never get along with the captain but do you detest him that much?"

Relief overwhelmed Jill. _Just stop overreacting, everything's fine. _She placed her hand over Rebecca's and gave it a gentle pat. "Rebecca, it's hard to get along with someone who looks like Vanilla Ice's lovechild."

Rebecca froze. Jill didn't dare to move. She suddenly realized that she hadn't lowered her own voice.

"Jill, er-"

"Vanilla. Ice's. Lovechild."

Copying Joseph's exact earlier movements, Jill hesitantly met eyes with Wesker. His expression was unreadable, but Jill found that even more terrifying.

"Valentine, two words: the twenty-fourth."

Jill visibly twitched, gritting her teeth in anger. _Does he have to keep bringing tomorrow up?_ Her frustration disappeared with a fake smile that stretched from ear to ear. "See you then," she shot back, in a sickeningly sweet voice. From behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, Wesker's eyes narrowed.

"Can't wait." Jill listened to Wesker's heavy footsteps until she heard him sit in his chair. She was about to sarcastically ponder why Wesker didn't seem overly keen when Rebecca cleared her throat.

"What was _that _all about?"

"Wesker and I both made doctor's appointments on the same day," Jill lied. It always amazed her how easily she could come up with something to substitute the truth. "Tomorrow, I have the joy of sitting in a dingy white room with Wesker as we wait to get stabbed with sharp objects."

Rebecca's voice was questionable with concern. "Why would you be going to the doctor?"

Jill frowned. "I'm getting my hepatitis shot. It's been due for three months. But I can't speak for the captain."

"Oh, well, like I said. If something's wrong, you can always tell me."

_This is the one thing I don't think I can confide in you, Becks, _Jill gloomily thought as she watched Rebecca go to her own desk. "I know that, Rebecca. You should know that, too." Rebecca smiled. Jill's facial muscles pulled her mouth into something that resembled a smile, but she couldn't be sure. She would smile for Rebecca, but besides her, what was there to smile about?

**...**

One word lingered in Jill's mind as she sat up in bed.

Doomsday.

The sun was shining, the city was bustling with noise, her breakfast of eggs and bacon was particularly pleasant. In Jill's mind, buildings were collapsing, the sun had burned itself out, flesh-hungry zombies were roaming the streets, and she was a member of the Spice Girls.

Hell. On. Earth.

Yet, in another part of Jill's utterly messed-up brain, the day was just what it was: sunny, happy, normal. Well, up until there was a knock at the door.

Opening the door, she felt any confidence she had diminish.

"Are you ready?" Wesker asked, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. Jill didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. She wanted to do both.

"As I'll ever be."

Even as they climbed into Wesker's car (he refused to be seen in what he called Jill's vehicle, 'a pile of scrap metal') they remained civil in each other's presence. The atmosphere was uneasy, but at least they weren't at each other's throats.

Yet.

**At the sperm bank...**

"You make me sick. I can't believe I'm even considering going through with this!"

"Keep your voice down, Valentine. If that Halloween mask you call a face didn't disturb people enough, your hormonal _man-voice_ will have them running for their lives."

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that. Don't forget, I saved your life!"

"I'm sure you've regretted it ever since..."

"Oh, you bet I-"

"Let's not forget who's going to provide you with a child here. I don't have to do this. I can walk out of this building right now and you will be back where you started."

"At least I would be alone and not with you."

"Um, excuse me, is there a problem here?"

In a nanosecond their faces changed from bloodlust to cheerful...or neutral, in Wesker's case. "Sorry, we're just a bit on edge," Wesker told the receptionist, hoping she would buy it. From the growing blush on her face, it would seem that she bought it, even if it was only because of the handsome features of Albert Wesker's face. Jill rolled her eyes.

"O-oh, that's fine," stammered the gushing receptionist. Wesker maintained the charm on the outside, but on the inside, he was feeling two things:

Absolute and complete rage for the woman beside him.

Utter irritation at the receptionist's shameless gawking.

Jill gave the woman their names and they sat down in the waiting room. Just like she had told Rebecca the day before, she was sitting in a waiting room with four dingy white walls, sandwiched between Captain Wesker and some guy with a fidgeting problem.

"Listen, Valentine-"

"Don't talk to me," Jill hissed, avoiding eye-contact. Wesker took in her sitting position. You could tell a lot by analyzing the way someone sits themselves. Jill had her head turned away from him. Her arms were crossed with her fingers gripping her skin tightly, most likely in anger. One leg was crossed over the other, the foot going up and down ever-so-slightly. Her disposition practically screamed bloody murder.

Wesker himself did not look happy. He was hunched over, his legs spread apart. He rested his elbows on his knees, letting his hands dangle in mid-air. He didn't make a move to push his sunglasses up as they slid lower on his nose.

Wesker was not a very happy camper either.

Jill looked at her captain from the corner of her eye. Two minutes into the car ride and they were slinging insults at each other. The name-calling ranged from 'Bleached Blonde' to 'Hormonal Woman' to the constant reference of 'Vanilla Ice's love-child,' which eventually led to Wesker snapping at Jill.

"_Its women like you that make me hate the human race."_

Jill was at a loss for words. Wesker, at first, took this as a sign that he had won, but as the drive continued, it was obvious that he had dug the knife in a little too hard.

Jill, on the other hand, had never been more infuriated at Wesker than at that moment. It wasn't the constant put-downs or yelling that got to her. It was the fact that he said words with such malice that it _stung_. Jill had been mad at her captain thousands of times, but she was never able to say something as harsh or as cruel as Wesker did. She never understood why.

Thinking she heard Wesker saying her name, she blocked out his voice and looked the other way once again, only to realize a pair of eyes burning a hole through her. She did a double-take at the man sitting beside her. He was staring right at her with a friendly, but weird smile on his face.

"Hey!" the man said. Jill looked him over. He had short, wild blonde hair underneath a baseball hat and had faint stubble covering his jaw line. The stranger wore a neon orange hoodie and baggy dark jeans. Jill deduced that he was around her age, late twenties or early thirties. In his lap was a clipboard with half-filled out forms on it. _Is he donating or something_, she thought before finding her voice.

"Um, hi."

"Here to get preggos, I assume?"

_...Preggos? The fuck...? _"I don't see how that's any of your concern."

"Well, most females here aren't here to donate."

"In that case, yes, I'm here for...yeah..."

The man chuckled and scooted his seat closer to Jill's, making her scoot closer to Wesker. She despised being only centimetres from the bastard but if it meant getting away from the overly-friendly male on her right, she would deal with it. "Just so you know," the stranger started, "if you're looking for the right sperm, I highly recommend my own."

Jill pretended to laugh, desperate for an escape. _Why can't this guy take a hint?_

"My name's Danny King, nice to meet you, babe." Danny held out his hand. Jill shook his hand in a death grip, forcing a horribly fake grin.

"I'm Jill. Nice to meet you Danny," she managed to say through gritted teeth. "I'm a lesbian."

The smile on Danny's face slowly faded as Jill separated their hands and stared straight at a wall, ignoring both of the men of either side of her. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Danny was hard to get rid of.

"So, that's why you're here, eh? If you're lez though, then who's the guy you came with?" Danny asked, pointing a finger in Wesker's direction. Noticing that he was mentioned, Wesker looked from Danny to Jill and then back to Danny again. Jill spoke up for him.

"Er, he's...um...he's my boyfriend."

Nice one, Jill.

"I thought you said you were a lesbian."

Wesker was completely lost. Jill had told some drug-induced moron that he was her boyfriend and that she was a lesbian. What had happened in the last three minutes?

Jill searched for an answer. Where did her bullshitting abilities go when she needed them the most? "Well, you see, when we first started dating, he was a girl named Amanda-"

Wesker's brain exploded.

"-and he ended up having a sex change to become a man, and here we are. The end." Jill tried covering up the humiliation in her face, but she was sure that it showed through anyway. A shiver crawled up her spine when she felt Wesker's breath in her ear.

"Once we get out of this hellhole, _sweetheart_, we need to have _a talk_," he whispered, his voice coming out like a snake's. Jill released the inner beast.

"Oh, fuck off, Amanda!"

Wesker was, for once, left speechless.

Danny was just having a time. "God, I have to come to the sperm bank more often!" He patted Jill's back, and it took much self-control for Jill not to punch him in the face. "Listen, Jillian, I wish you guys the best of luck with the whole preggo thing, but I got to go get this done and over with." Jill made an effort to wave back as he passed in his form and was escorted down one of the halls. At least he left.

The sounds of phones ringing and other people in the waiting room chatting continued in the background, but there was no communication at all between Albert Wesker and Jill Valentine. The frowns on their faces said more than enough.

**...**

"Jill Valentine?"

The two glanced up at the sound of the name. A man in tan pants, polished shoes and a tucked-in shirt stood before them.

"I'm Dr. Cane, if you'll follow me please."

His warm expression earned a smile from Jill. Wesker and Jill slowly stood up, watching the doctor walk ahead of them. They looked at each other, glared, sighed, and followed the man's footsteps.

**...**

"...and that's the procedure. It's fairly simple and we usually have success on the first try. If conception fails, you can always make another appointment and try again. We take enough sperm from the donor so that multiple tries are allowed."

The two nodded in unison, mulling over everything Dr. Cane was telling them. Dr. Cane read something from one of the papers on his desk. "It also mentions here that this will be a private donation."

"Yes," Wesker acknowledged. "I want it only available to Jill and Jill only."

"That will be no problem. Any information we get here stays with us. You won't have to worry about that. One thing we do have to worry about is timing. Miss Valentine, from what you've told me, the best time for insemination would be between August 4th and August 9th. If you want to have it done as soon as possible, we'll need to set up any physical examinations and tests within the next few days for you, Mr. Wesker."

"Anything else I need to provide?" Wesker asked.

"Well, depending on the sperm bank, it can be required for you to give us the last six generations of your family so we can check any available medical records. For us, it's optional. In this case, it would be up to the mother."

Jill liked the sound of that word: mother. "That won't be necessary. I trust him." _I have to in the end. How could I go through with this if I didn't?_

Wesker turned towards her, raising an eyebrow. She wore an unreadable expression. If anything, nothing had changed. She was probably still as angry as he was. The peace between them wouldn't last outside Cane's office.

"It's settled, then. Jill, you're free to go. Expect a call from us sometime tomorrow with the appointment date. Mr. Wesker and I will just be figuring out his own appointments."

Jill stood up, taking note of the heavy downpour outside. Now she had no ride home and no money for a cab. She wasn't about to trust going on the bus this far downtown, even if she was with the law enforcement. She pushed the thought of walking in the rain out of her head and shook Dr. Cane's hand. "Thank you, Doctor. It was nice meeting you," she said, smiling pleasantly.

"It was nice meeting you as well. Take care."

Wesker's pale eyes followed her as Jill walked out of the office, the door closing behind her with a loud squeak. He was well aware that Dr. Cane was saying something, but at that moment, he didn't really care. He pretended that he didn't care about anything at all.

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**Thank God this chapter's done. It was hard to finish it, I didn't know how! XD Hopefully you enjoyed it!**

**And I just want to say thank you for all the reviews so far :) They are really appreciated boys and girls!**

**-Kendell  
**


	6. Phone Calls

**Yes, I'm alive. I just needed to get through this chapter and I did! I can't wait to write the next one. :P Actually, the next chapter is almost halfway through, so keep an eye out!  
**

**Okay, this chapter continues where the last one basically left off. This chapter DOES open up many different plot points though, although I think I inserted them very discreetly XD**

**Disclaimer: Indeed.**

**

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Jill pondered the thought of getting sick since she had been in the rain for an hour or so, then tossed it away as fast as it came. She couldn't care less about getting a cold; maybe the cold would kill her. To Jill, that was just wishful thinking.

The park was seemingly empty of life, apart from Jill, who felt like the only person left in the world. The chains supporting the swing beneath her creaked as she gently pushed herself to and fro. The streets and buildings in the distance were covered in a veil of mist, giving Raccoon City a more sleepier and peaceful appearance. If it wasn't for the slow chill climbing up her spine, she wouldn't have minded the rain.

Meanwhile, our very own Mr. Iceberg was ready to crush his phone into pieces. It was the fifth time the woman's answering machine had answered and Wesker was ready to explode.

_"You've reached the phone of-"_

_**Click.**_

Wesker slammed the phone into its place. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of scotch, pouring the dark liquid into a shot glass before downing it in one swallow. He wouldn't let the situation with Jill take hold of his life.

_I won't let this change anything._

**...**

"Jill, what are you doing out here in the rain?"

The sudden presence of someone snapped Jill out of her daze. Her eyes met those of Chris Redfield's. The umbrella he had in his hand immediately opened and sheltered them from the downpour.

"Just thinking, that's all," Jill answered, her eyes drifting elsewhere. "It's easier to do it in a place like this."

Chris crinkled his nose as he took in their surroundings. "I can't stand places like this. Too quiet. Reminds me of a graveyard."

Jill broke into a smile and chuckled. "I had a feeling you would say that." Her smile slowly faded as she linked arms with Chris, trying to listen to what he was talking about. She thought it would be Wesker that would find her and apologize and offer her a ride home. The more reasonable side of Jill's mind corrected her of that fantasy. Captain Wesker was too proud and detached to do such things.

"-so we were thinking that maybe Saturday night, we'd all get together at a club and have a few drinks. Up for it?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'd like that. Haven't let myself have a proper good night out in a long time." Jill had to admit, there was a lot of truth behind that sentence.

Chris gave her a Cheshire cat-like grin as he ran to the driver's side, his hands in his pockets searching for his car keys. "Who knows? Maybe we'll even drag the captain along."

Suddenly, Jill wanted to punch her fist through the glass. The captain Chris continued to rant about on the way to her house was the very same captain who insulted her numerous times that day and then never bothered to even think of arranging a ride home for her, even though he knew she had no money and would have to walk home all the way. He could have convinced her to stay and wait until he could leave. He could have lent her the money to get a taxi. _Oh, but that would be too "human" for the jerk. No, he can't afford to show a weakness that us weaklings call, "compassion" or "trust" or ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T HAVE TO DO WITH BLOOD SLAUGHTER AND- _

"Uh, Jill?"

Jill tried to comprehend the sound of her name. "Huh? What were you saying, Chris?"

Chris just faced forward and scrunched his eyebrows together. A deep breath was released out of his nose. "Forget it."

Jill bit her lip. The last few weeks she had been neglecting everyone around her and focused on her own problems. She realized how selfish she was being, especially towards Chris. All he ever wanted to do was help her. It was only then that Jill began to notice how she took Chris' friendship for granted. If she was scared or alone she always counted on him to be there, just like he counted on her during his times of need.

Doing her best to put on a apologetic smile, she placed her hand over Chris' and said: "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind lately and I didn't care about what was going on with everyone else." She glanced at him with a cheeky grin. "Forgive me?"

Chris took a second to make eye-contact with her and smirked. "I suppose I have to. You look pitiful."

Jill, suddenly conscious about how she looked, glanced down at her clothes. Her R.P.D. t-shirt and pair of skinny jeans were completely soaked to the skin. Her feet were practically numb and her hair hanged limply around the frame of her face. She also inconveniently remembered how cold she was. In response, she playfully punched his arm laughing and cranked up the heat. Chris couldn't help but laugh as well.

Chris Redfield.

Making Jill Valentine smile since 1991.

**...**

Chris stayed for an hour before heading home himself. His sister, Claire Redfield, was returning home from a tour of Europe that night and he wanted to make sure his apartment was ready for her. He invited Jill to come for the night and see Claire, but she declined. Jill knew how close the brother and sister were and wanted to give them some time alone.

After drying off the dishes and putting them away, Jill checked her phone for any messages. There were zero messages. Five missed calls. They were all addressed as "Private name, private number." Jill dismissed it as anyone from work; they would have used their cell phones (if not their cell phones, then there name should have come up). Anyone else she knew didn't have their name listed as private. She was certain it wasn't her father calling, but that's another story we will save for later.

Staring at the phone in her hand, she contemplated calling Wesker. Could she really handle another day of avoiding him, then exchanging glares and insults with the man until they couldn't stand it anymore and hesitantly made up?

_No_, she couldn't.

Whether she wanted to or not, Jill had one more score to settle. She was sick of having ups and downs and tired of the constant cat-and-mouse games. She wanted the situation to be solved once and for all.

She dialed Wesker's cell number.

**Meanwhile...**

_Ring! Ring!_

Wesker had only finished talking to William a few minutes before his cell phone started ringing again. Thinking William was calling him back, he quickly flipped it open and spoke. "Yes?"

"Hello."

The voice was definitely female. It only took him a second to deduce that it was Jill. "So, you actually know how to answer a phone."

"What are you talking about?" came the confused reply. Wesker scoffed.

"I tried calling you already to make sure you made it back. You never answered."

Jill remembered the missed calls on her phone and realized it was Wesker that had been calling. She was shocked, to say the least. "That was _you_ who called me five times?"

"I wanted to inform you about my appointments," Wesker answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "I thought you were just being stubborn and not answering your phone."

It was one of the few times that Jill could see through her captain's lies; she chose not to acknowledge it. "So, Aman-"

"_Jill._"

"-Er, Wesker," Jill hastily corrected herself, taking heed of the harshness in his voice, "if you don't mind me asking, what did Dr. Cane tell you?"

"I have two appointments tomorrow, one blood and one urine. Then a physical examination on Sunday. Whenever I get those results back, I can find out just when I am actually going to donate anything." Wesker shook his head. "I wasn't aware of the extreme lengths they went to make sure you are disease-free."

Jill frowned as Wesker listed some of the questions Dr. Cane asked him when she left. The more he listed, the more guilt Jill felt. She considered everything she would have to go through, but did she ever consider what _he_ would be put through? She placed him in a difficult situation and they both knew that, but the thought was much more imminent in Jill's mind now than before. She digested this as Wesker continued to rip Dr. Cane into pieces.

"-From the way he interrogated me, you would actually think I _was_ a homosexual with a sex change-"

"I'm sorry."

Wesker was about to scold her for interrupting him but wasn't given the chance to speak.

"I never meant to put you through all this. I honestly thought you would refuse and I would go with a donor. I couldn't even imagine that you would say yes." She paused for a breath. "I know I've been hard to get along with the last few weeks, but it wasn't easy dealing with you either. I'm tired of us going up and down like a yo-yo and putting on a show for everyone else at work...it's not fair for any of us. Could we start over? A fresh start?" Jill waited for a response, eager to hear what he wanted to say.

After a rather long silence, he began to speak. "You don't have to apologize. I have a lot on my mind as well lately," Wesker ran his fingers through his hair, "and having Chief Irons on my back constantly adds quite a bit to the load."

"Anything I can help with?" Jill offered.

"Not at the moment, but if you know of any way of getting out of Raccoon City without anyone noticing you're gone, let me know."

"You'll be the first," Jill assured him. An idea popped into her head. Que the light-bulb. "Oh, and Wesker? Will you be free tomorrow evening?"

Wesker grew wary. "Why?" he asked, suspiciously.

Jill couldn't help but smirk. The captain in a club on a Saturday night? That would be more entertaining than infuriating.

"I have a challenge for you, sir, but I must ask: how well can you dance?"

* * *

**The next chapter's: "Saturday Night Fever" short summary:**

**-The younger crowd of S.T.A.R.S. head out for a night on the town, and everything that can go wrong...does. And unbeknown to everyone else, it's Jill last night of freedom, and she's going to celebrate to her heart's content. Find out what will happen in the next chapter!**

**I know this wasn't that funny but I wanted to tie up any loose ends and resolve any past issues. The next chapter should be a lot funnier :D**

**Hope ya liked it anyway! **

**-Kendell  
**


	7. Saturday Night Fever

**So...long O_O And this is the shortened version!**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: All the characters will seem OOC in at least one instance during this chapter. This is because of the situations they have been placed in (heh, heh) and because alcohol is involved. I apologize for Jill's unrecognizable behavior later in the chapter. DO NOT FRET! The next chapter: all the characters are back in their natural environments...well, mostly.**

**Oh, and excuse the length. I considered splitting it but couldn't find the appropriate place to do so. Just think of it as a jumbo chapter :D**

**Disclaimer: The Backstreet Boys are not mine, but everything else is -brick'd-**

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"Hey, it's the boss-man!" Chris hollered from across the lobby of the R.P.D. Wesker groaned and tried to walk away but Chris was at his side in a flash. "Just the man I want to see."

"Good morning to you, too, Chris," Wesker hissed, failing to subdue his usual morning crankiness.

Wesker had been up all night trying to figure out the weapons order for S.T.A.R.S. but the figures would never add up right. Include numerous calls to customer service and you have Wesker's trip to hell and back. He ended up falling asleep and almost slept in. He was sure that things were going to get worse.

"Actually, I need to tell you something important."

_Yep, definitely worse._

"I'm worried about Joseph. He's been starting to act funny."

Wesker cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. "How?"

"Do you remember how you hit him across the head with that stapler, the day before last?"

Wesker pondered it for a moment. "...Yes, vaguely..."

"Well, he called me in the middle of the night, saying he was hearing voices and they wouldn't go away. He asked me if I could pick him up. So, of course, I tell him I will but when I get to his apartment: not there." Chris ended there, leaving Wesker staring at him, waiting.

"What, so he's disappeared?" Wesker questioned. Chris shook his head.

"No, I found him. He was in Wal-Mart."

"...Wal-Mart?" Wesker repeated. He was incredulous.

"Wal-Mart," confirmed Chris, nodding his head. "I tried asking him why the hell he was standing in Wal-Mart in nothing but his boxers on when an announcement came on. He started screaming and ran up and down the aisles."

Wesker held up his hand. "Let me try to understand what you are saying. The voices in Joseph's head...was...

"...the Wal-Mart announcements..." Chris finished for him. "I think he might be suffering from a concussion or something. That, or it knocked something loose."

Wesker sighed. "This is just what I need right now," he said bitterly. Chris wrapped his arm around his shoulders, only for Wesker to look at him and quickly slide out. Not taking the hint, Chris continued to tag along with Wesker all the way to the S.T.A.R.S. office.

"Just so you know, Captain, you are invited to come along with the rest of Alpha and Bravo for a night on the town."

"You mean, for real?" Wesker squealed in a overly-happy pitch. He placed his coffee mug down on his desk so both his hands were free. "Yay!"

The sudden cheer caught the attention of the S.T.A.R.S. members in the room. Wesker ignored them and sat down.

"You coming or what?" Chris asked.

"No."

Rebecca inserted her two cents worth. "Oh, come on, it will be fun!"

"I would rather spend my day in an asylum, thank you."

Jill walked into the office, carrying various files. "Here you go, sir. All translated and ready to be filed."

"Good work, Valentine." He watched as Jill placed the files into the appropriate cabinet. "Did you remember to make copies for the police downstairs?"

"I ran into Kevin while I was down there. He said he would give them it for me since he had to go there anyway. He's giving the rookies a few lessons today."

Chris groaned. "Man, I hated that. I mean, I like Kevin and all, but I know he dreads going through the safety precautions and regulations as much as the people hearing it do."

Jill sat on Brad's desk and, after saying hi, turned to Wesker. "Guess we'll see you tonight, eh?"

Wesker finished off his cup of coffee and reclined in his chair. "I told you yesterday I had no intentions of going."

"You would enjoy it as much as we would...as along as they don't keep playing rap over and over." Jill scrunched her nose up. "The same way we were over Abba, kids today get teary-eyed over 'Smack My Bitch Up_._'"

The door slammed open and in jumped Joseph Frost. "DID SOMEONE SAY 'SMACK MY BITCH UP?" The office stayed dead silent. "I _love_ that song!"

"Dear god," Wesker muttered under his breath, smoothing back his hair. "The maniac lives."

As soon as Joseph spotted Richard, he ran over to him and shook him. "RICHARD! THE MUTANT MONKEYS ARE ATTACKING THE CITY ZPLORGAL! WE MUST SAVE THE GIANT CHICKENS FROM THEIR DEATH AND STOP WORLD WAR THREE BEFORE CHINA TAKES THE GIANT CHICKENS AND PAINT THEM PURPLE!"

"J-Joseph!" Richard shouted. "Please s-s-stop s-shaking me!"

"You're one of THEM, aren't you? TELL ME YOUR SECRETS!" Joseph demanded, his nails digging into Richard's shoulders. "_WHY_ WOULD THEY CHOOSE THE COLOR PURPLE?"

Chris finally separated Richard and Joseph. Joseph gawked at him before throwing his hands up in the air and screaming: "I NEED TO SMACK MY BITCH UP!"

"Uh, what?"

"IT'S A MESSAGE FROM THE VOICES. THEY NEVER STOP CHRIS!" He poked Chris' chest with every word. "THEY." Poke. "NEVER." Poke. "STOP!" Poke. Poke. Poke.

"Joseph, stop," said the assertive voice that belonged to no other than Wesker. "This is madness."

Joseph shoved Chris to the side (and into a desk) and stepped closer to Wesker. "Madness?" Joseph repeated. His eyes flickered. "This. Is. JOSEPH!"

With that, Joseph tried to round-house kick Wesker face. Wesker easily maneuvered around it by ducking and moving a few steps to the side. Joseph's foot failed to stop as it swung down and then forward, knocking Wesker's desk completely over. The sounds of paper falling, objects clattering and a coffee mug shattering followed . Wesker stood there in shock as he gazed down at his desk in ruins.

"...Joseph...Frost_..._"

"Ssh, don't worry," Joseph told Wesker, placing a hand on his quivering shoulder, "the demons are gone now."

Wesker's hands clenched into fists, his shoulders still quivering with rage. The tyrant in Wesker was about to be unleashed until Jill stopped him. "Don't bother, Wesker. It's not going to make a difference."

Wesker paused for a moment, blinked, and then tried to pull out his handgun from his holster. It took the combined efforts of Jill, Chris and Brad to stop their captain from killing their comrade. Even as Wesker continued to shout profanities and death threats, Joseph blankly stared ahead. Rebecca and Richard took the time to pounce Joseph and tie him to a chair.

"Sir, please, calm down!"

"_**He**_, will **_burn_**,in _**hell**_!"

"Wesker, keep your temper in check! You're not suppose to have emotions!"

"**_I want to taste his blood!_**"

"Speaking of blood, shouldn't you be watching your blood pressure -ow! Okay, okay, I take it back!"

Jill came up with a idea. A threat would work...maybe. "If you don't calm down, Chris will start stripping!"

"Hell yeah I wil-" Chris froze. "Wait, what?"

Immediately, Wesker jumped out of their arms and stood up straight, trying to slow down his breathing and keep his temper in check. He knew Jill wouldn't actually force it upon him, but the thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

"Okay, how about we-" Chris looked around the office. "Oh shit, he's gone."

"Didn't we tie him to a chair?" Richard shouted, exasperated. The said chair and rope disappeared along with Joseph. Everyone exchanged looks and darted out into the hallway and to the nearest window. All they could see is Joseph in his red bandanna and boxers, running freely up the street.

Brad was the first to speak. "Well, at least he got free of the chair."

"What if he gets in trouble or something?" Rebecca said, panicked. She nervously chewed on a nail. "Shouldn't we go after him?"

Chris simply shook his head. "No, let him run. Look at him go...kind of reminds me of Bambi running through a field."

"Chris."

"Yeah, Captain?"

"I killed Bambi's mom."

Chris gasped in horror. Everyone else moved back into the office, including Wesker, leaving Chris alone to revel in disgust.

"You _monster_! I had to go to therapy because of you! _COME BACK HERE AND FACE ME_!"

...

Jill could hardly remember the last time she went out into the nightlife. She had gotten so depressed and swamped with everything that she never felt like going out and having a good time with her friends. Now, she only had limited time to do just that. Well, to a degree, anyway.

Jill was getting ready at Rebecca's house. Rebecca had a small but cozy apartment that wasn't far from where Jill lived. The walls were covered with photos, framed paintings, and postcards, making Jill wonder if her landlord approved of her having so much stuff on the walls. Either way, it was clear that Rebecca didn't think much of it.

"How do I look?"

Jill turned to see Rebecca standing in the doorway. The petite girl wore a green, layered top with spaghetti straps; the layers fluttered out from her body and bounced with every move she made. She also had on dark-washed capris, the bottoms rolled up an inch or two, and a pair of matching green high heels.

Jill was almost wordless. "Wow, you look...amazing."

The shyer of the two blushed. "Really? You don't think it's too overdressed or anything?"

"No, you look fine!"

"Thank you," Rebecca said, staring at her toes. Her eyes caught Jill's feet and slowly made their way up. "Whoa, you look awesome!"

Jill decided to go down the daring route for once. She was always being complemented on her legs, so, she thought: _why not show them off? _Her outfit consisted of a blue tube top; black mini-skirt and brown leather boots. Just in case the late night air turned cold, she tied a white sweater around her waist. She liked to be prepared.

"I tried, anyway," Jill said with a chuckle.

"You're lucky. You always look so nice." Rebecca reached down and grabbed her purse. "I wish I looked more like you."

Jill was about to ask what she meant when Rebecca turned and smiled at her.

"Come on, let's go."

Jill nodded her head, still thinking about Rebecca's words. She would have to talk to her sometime. There was just something about that sentence that didn't sit right with Jill. Maybe there was more on Rebecca's mind than impressing her teammates at work.

...

The walk to the club was a long one, particularly on Rebecca, who ended up walking barefooted most of the way there. They could see the Frequency Nightclub's blue neon sign from afar. The building was fairly big and swanky with the music blaring and crowds forming outside. It wasn't the club that caught their attention though, it was the downtown section itself. People moving all around them; headlights speeding by; lit-up signs flickering on and off; every detail helped create the hustle-and-bustle atmosphere the girls had grown into.

Standing outside the Frequency was Brad and Richard. As soon as they caught sight of the girls, they waved.

"Hey!" shouted Rebecca, dragging Jill behind her as she sprinted towards the two. "What's up?"

The more soft-spoken Brad answered. "Nothing yet, just waiting for the others to show up."

Richard broke into a grin. "Are you guys ready to have some fun tonight?"

Jill, Rebecca, and even Brad grinned back. "Damn straight we are!" Jill exclaimed, thrusting her fist into the air.

"Me, too," Rebecca said, before shyly adding, "as long as I have someone to dance with."

Jill shrewdly elbowed Richard in the shoulder. "I'm sure she won't have a problem with that, eh, Richard?" Her response was a raise of the eyebrow. She shrugged in return. "It would be the gentlemanly thing to do."

"Well," Richard played along, "when you put it that way, I guess I won't be able to leave your side tonight, Becks."

Rebecca's eyes flashed open and she stared down at her shoes, hoping the darkness would hide the blush growing on her cheeks. Richard nor Brad took any significant notice of it, but our Jilly sure did.

"Well, I'll be damned..." Taking one look at Richard's astonished face and then turning around, Jill, herself, was left in shock.

Albert Wesker was walking towards them. Slicked-back hair; classic black sunglasses; black turtleneck with sleeves rolled up past the elbows; and, of course, black pants.

Jill couldn't help but tease him. She loudly let out a whistle, successfully catching Wesker's steady glare with a cat call. The others beside her snickered.

"Feeling frisky, Jill?" Wesker asked, sourly.

Jill _tsk_ed and waved him off. "Sorry, I forgot you were born without a sense of humor."

"I don't know how I will recover from that one, Jill." Wesker began walking towards the entrance of the club, the others obediently following behind him. "Born without a sense of humor? I need to write that one down."

"While you search for your notebook, the rest of us will wait for the others here. We don't want to miss them."

"Understood."

Jill wondered why Wesker showed up after all. He didn't dance, he didn't like clubs, he wasn't a heavy drinker...what was there for him to look forward to? She deduced it to simply the need of getting out. Even a person like him needed to be around people now and then.

"So," Wesker spoke again, immediately catching Jill's attention, "who, exactly, are we waiting for?"

"Chris, Forest and Edward," Rebecca listed off, staring up at the sky as if it helped her concentration.

"Did someone say our names?"

Sure enough, the three came up to them just as Rebecca stopped speaking.

_Good timing_, Jill thought, as she watched them approach.

"Well, you showed up." Wesker took a quick glance at his watch. "Let's get this over with."

With those encouraging words said, the S.T.A.R.S. members infiltrated the club.

**Later...**

Jill had originally jumped into the whole "clubbing" thing with great enthusiasm. Soon, she would be artificially inseminated and, hopefully, pregnant. It was basically her last night to throw off her uniform, slip into a skirt and dance until the sun rose...her last night to go out with her friends and just let loose and not have a care in the world. Becoming a mother would mean having _every_ care in the world and all your time devoted to your little one. _So_, Jill decided, _I'm going to make up for the all the night-outs I let slip by_.

...Jill might have gone a bit overboard.

The night was fairing well. Neon-colored lights flashed over the crowd on the dance-floor, coating them in yellows and greens and blues. Nearly every stool at the bar was occupied. The clinking of glasses and laughter somehow found their way to rise above the music.

"Pink!"

Chris, Jill, Brad, Edward and Forest quickly downed a shot. The liquor continued to burn at her throat, but Jill ignored it. She already had too many to care any more.

While Richard and Rebecca were on the dance-floor, our infamous five started a drinking game earlier. Every time someone saw a woman in pink, everyone downed a shot.

Pink was a very popular color that night.

It got to the point where any color that resembled pink counted, including: pinkish oranges, pinkish reds, pinkish blues, greens, blacks...you get the picture. Edward seemed to be fairing the best. The man had a freakishly high alcohol tolerance and a girlfriend to meet up with. The others...

"_Backstreet's back, ALRIGHT!_"

...were singing Backstreet Boys.

"Pink!" Forest called. Jill followed his eyes and landed on someone in black attire sitting at the bar.

"That's not pink."

"Who gives two fucks?" came Forest's reply, somehow managing to say the words with all the wit and elegance of a university professor.

Brad looked over as well. "Hey, that's the captain!" he said, or tried to say. It was hard to make out his words when they slurred together.

Jill's gaze lingered on her captain's back longer than needed. In her drunken stupor, everything she had grown to admire about him magnified intensely. She considered asking him to dance with her. Ever since she joined the drinking game, she never left the table. The dance-floor was beckoning her, but she didn't want to go alone. She could always try finding Richard and Rebecca, but just trying to spot them in the crowd was an unsuccessful task.

As Jill continued to ogle Wesker, she realized how broad his shoulders were...and how his gelled hair glistened when the light hit it just right...and how taut his muscles were underneath his form-fitting turtleneck...and...how...he...

"Did anyone notice just how _sexy_ Captain Wesker looks tonight?" she blurted, her heart suddenly pounding a mile a minute.

Everyone at the table raised their hand except for Edward. He was the only one left in a right state of mind.

"Oh, okay, I thought it was just me," Jill said, relieved.

Chris rested his chin in his hands. "He reminds me of one of the Backstreet Boys."

There was a murmur of agreement among them, and Edward decided that it was perfect time to leave before things got any weirder.

"I better go meet up with Lisa," Edward told them. "See ya."

As they waved him off, Rebecca and Richard came over. The two were panting and covered in sweat from their non-stop dancing.

"How's it going?" Rebecca asked the four breathlessly, taking Edward's seat. It was evident that her feet were in pain when she kicked her bare heels up on the table.

"Pink!" Brad hollered. Four shots went down.

"I think that answers my question."

"I _need_ to _dance_!" Jill suddenly exclaimed. She got up from the table and threw her arms open. "Anyone want to dance with me?"

"I would," Richard started, "but I gotta sit down. My legs are killing me!"

Apparently, Rebecca needed rest, too. Chris couldn't because he wanted to continue the drinking game. Brad said he couldn't feel the lower half of his body, and Forest forgot he even had legs. Obviously, there was only one person to go to.

Jill picked up another shot and held the glass firmly to try and tame her shaking hands; when that failed, she swallowed the alcohol and began to weave her way through the crowd.

Wesker sat by himself at the bar, watching the water in the glass swirl around its perimeters. He survived sitting with the others until the third round came along. By that time, he barely managed to escape with his sanity.

"Havin' fun?"

Jill was standing beside him. Judging by the pinkness in her cheeks and the large smile on her face, Wesker knew she was smashed.

"How much have you had to drink?" asked Wesker, grabbing her chin and examining her face for anything else. She didn't seem to appreciate this and stepped away from his touch.

"Like you care," Jill uttered, too low for him to hear.

Wesker stared at her from behind his sunglasses. She didn't look so good. In fact, she didn't look good at all. He was about to question her about it when she met his gaze. Her smile returned.

"Dance with me?" Jill asked, although it sounded more like a command than a question.

Wesker let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Ha. No."

Jill wasn't going to take no for an answer. She wrapped her arms around his bicep and gave a hard yank. "Just this song and I'll disappear from sight."

"Jill, even if I were to dance, it would not be to a song where a man rants on about screwing women with big rears."

Another sharp tug. "We can always wait for the next song."

"Stop making a fool of yourself and let go." His words came out harshly, and he could have swore he saw Jill's drunken demeanor break into hurt. It disappeared as fast as it came.

Jill was about to say something when she tugged on his arm too hard. Wesker fell off his stool, unintentionally bringing Jill with him, and the two of them tumbled onto the tiled floor. All Wesker could hear from under him was a sudden burst of laughter.

"What's so funny?"

Jill tried to speak but couldn't control her laughing. "I...I don't know!"

Wesker met her baby blues for a brief second before picking himself off of her and to his feet. He offered his hand. She accepted. "You're drunk, Valentine."

Jill scoffed at the mere suggestion. "Drunk? I didn't have that much to drink! I'm perfectly-" Jill once again made contact with the ground, having tripped over her own feet. She let out a loud snort before beginning to laugh once more.

Resisting the urge to leave her there on the floor, Wesker bent down and pulled Jill to her feet.

"Listen to me, you should go home; you've had too much to drink. I'm about to leave so if you need a drive, here's your chance."

"I don't want to go yet," Jill whined, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to Wesker that Jill completely changed when there was liquor in her, "I want to dance!"

"If _you_ need someone to dance with, I'd be happy to oblige."

They both turned to see a man sitting beside them on a stool. The stranger downed his tequila and walked over to Jill, pushing Wesker to the side in the process. "Sorry for eavesdropping...but I..."

Jill beamed. "Jill, nice to meet you."

"Oh. Uh, Ernie." He shook Jill's hand, ignoring Wesker's existence. Wesker didn't care if the guy ignored him or not, he knew exactly what kind of guy he was, the kind that no woman should be around (not to mention the fact the guy was wasted). If Jill hadn't been drunk, she would have noticed it right off the bat.

Ernie was about to escort Jill to the dance-floor when Wesker stopped them. "Jill, I'm warning you now. Stay away from this guy. Go home."

Jill gave him a malicious look. "Just because you want to ruin everyone's evening doesn't mean I'll let you ruin mine. How the hell do you know what kind of guy he is anyway?"

"I'm the captain of S.T.A.R.S., and the way you are acting right now is shameful to not just the team, but the whole R.P.D."

Jill's anger flared. "See what I mean?" she shouted. "You think you know everything but you don't! You never worry about people. You just care about yourself and your stupid reputation!"

"Jill, I have never cared about my reputation. You of all people should-"

Jill didn't even bother to finish listening. She let Ernie lead to the dance-floor. Wesker, fuming, was ready to leave but couldn't bring himself to stop watching them.

The rhythmic percussion in the background became nothing but an echo in his ears. Wesker, however, kept his feet glued to where they were.

He didn't move when he saw Ernie fall up against him; nor when Jill tried to shove him off; nor when he saw the look of distress in her eyes; nor when he saw Ernie's hand wander to her hip...

...but then.

Jill was released.

She slumped to her knees, unable to stand on her shaking legs. All that was audible was her heartbeat booming in her ears, the music blaring, and the gasps of the crowd surrounding her who had only just noticed the situation. She gasped as well when she looked ahead only to see Wesker with his foot on Ernie's chest, pinning him to the ground.

"C-Captain?" The name fell upon deaf ears.

Ernie struggled underneath Wesker's foot as Wesker increased the weight he was placing on his chest. "W-what are you doin'?"

"What position are _you_ in to question _me_?"

The silent crowd exchanged worried expressions. Jill sat there, finding it hard to comprehend the utter coldness in Wesker's voice. Even Ernie, who was trying to act tough, let his facade slip when he saw past the blond man's sunglasses and into his eyes. He began to shake, and not from the pain.

He was terrified.

"I should arrest you, but, unfortunately, I have more important things to attend to." Wesker's icy blue eyes glowed with fury. "Unless you want your lungs to collapse, I would suggest getting out of my sight."

The boot was lifted. Ernie's frightened eyes darted between Wesker and Jill. A slight movement in Wesker's footing sent Ernie sprinting through the crowd, flying by the security and out the door. When security came over, Wesker summarized what happened and cleared everything up.

"Alright, show's over folks," one of the men yelled. As if to discourage any suspicious chatter, the music was turned up even louder.

Jill hadn't moved from the spot. Wesker bent down beside her, wrapped an arm around his neck and heaved her upwards, forcing her to her feet. Wesker took note of her pale complexion and the tired rings forming under her eyes.

"I'm going home."

"You are in no state to be walking home alone in the dark."

"I'll find...a..." Jill looked to the sky for the right word.

"Taxi?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"I will drive you home," Wesker said. Jill took off out of the door without another word, so he followed. Even as they entered the car and put the club behind them, Wesker couldn't shake the feeling that his co-worker might fear him more than her attacker.

That didn't make any sense.

Right?

* * *

**Maybe there was more to this situation than Wesker saw? Hm...  
**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

**Oh, er, one more question. What the hell happened to Joseph?**

**-Kendell**

**P.S. You'll know in the next chapter**

**P.P.S. This chapter also proves why you don't let S.T.A.R.S. members drink.  
**


	8. Confidantes

**I will be surprised if anyone reads this story anymore XD Although I'm happy to say that I got half of the next chapter typed, the rest of it pretty much planned out, and I got some new pairings involved. Hopefully within the next few chapters I'll be able to introduce some other characters from the game, maybe hint at some pairings, and let us see if Jill will indeed get pregnant.**

**Oh, and some NEW CHANGES to the story:**

**-Got rid of the pairing list in very first chapter. Like I said, changed some pairings up, added a few, and I want to keep some a surprise :P**

**-S.T.A.R.S. has been established for SEVEN years instead of nine. Jill has been in it for five years.**

**-Joey Canes is now Joey Marone.**

**With THAT out of the way: on to the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil and co., but I kind of wish I did.**

* * *

"Did he treat you roughly?"

"No, he was just...grabby."

"Do you want to press charges?"

"I don't think it would get anywhere. I'm drunk, dressed like a hooker and wanted to dance with someone." Que self-pity. "I asked for it."

An exasperated breath passed Wesker's lips. "You did not ask for it. You are not dressed like a hooker. You _are_ drunk and should have been more careful. What's done is done." He said each word as if he rehearsed them a thousand times. It sounded more like a recording than anything reassuring.

Wesker again examined Jill's arms and legs, as if Ernie had beaten her to a pulp and he was searching for wounds. Jill sat sideways in the car seat, legs hanging out of the open passenger door, observing her captain kneeling before her. That dangerous aura hadn't disappeared. Unlike anyone else would, she didn't feel threatened. If anything, she felt safe knowing Captain Wesker would be escorting her home.

Finally satisfied, Wesker motioned for her to move her legs and closed the passenger door. He sat down behind the wheel and headed for Jill's house.

Jill's eyes took in the streetlights streaking by. While they had left the downtown area behind them, the life of the city failed to dull. For her, pretending to focus on the view out the window was much easier than trying to find the words to say to him.

_Should I say everything or nothing?_

Silence prevailed for five minutes. It was a countdown for Wesker. It was eternity for Jill.

"Do not expect me to do this again."

Jill's breath hitched in her throat.

"You made a show of yourself back there, getting drunk and whining at me like a child." From the corner of her eye she could see him shake his head. "What excuse do you have this time? Just trying to have fun?"

_What do I say? _Her mind desperately searched for her voice, but it was not to be found.

"Are you there, Valentine?" Wesker barked, slightly louder than before. "Or did you pass out?"

"I..." It was getting harder to concentrate on looking out the window. "I'm listening."

"If you weren't so intoxicated you might have been able to defend yourself. You would have saw through him." Wesker's rigid jawline twitched. "How do you think you will feel in the morning, hm? If I didn't know any better, I would think Chris' impulsiveness was beginning to rub off on you."

"What is it with you and Chris?" Jill shouted, forgetting who she was yelling at. "You always paint him in such a...such a..."

_Damn you alcohol! I can't even finish my sentences anymore!_

"Negative light?" Wesker offered.

"See? You even know it yourself!"

"Chris is a excellent addition to the S.T.A.R.S. team, but it cannot be helped if our personalities clash. That's not the matter at hand though." Wesker didn't hesitate to get right to the point. "I am telling you now: smarten up and get your act together. You have intelligence. Use it."

"Wait...why would I have needed to defend myself?"

Wesker took his eyes off the road for a full ten seconds to just stare at Jill in shock. "What?"

"You talked as if I was attacked."

"Well, correct me if I am wrong, but that scumbag you call 'Ernie' was practically assaulting you." Wesker kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye to see if he was making progress. Did alcohol make her an amnesiac or what? "And yet, you seem to be more frightened of me than that sexually-starved stranger."

Jill scoffed. "He wasn't putting any on me. He was more drunk than I am!"

Silence.

"Ernie said he was gonna dance all night because he wanted to make his girlfriend worry about him after they got in a fight or something like that - the music was so loud and I can still barely hear anything - and he was almost crying! I felt so bad for him. He kept falling so I had to try and keep him standing."

"...So that was why he was all over you."

Jill nodded. "If he didn't lean on me, he would have been on the floor."

"Why did you think I attacked him then?"

"To tell you the truth..." Jill bit her lip and looked out the window. "I just thought you were jealous."

"Jealous!" Wesker repeated, astonished. "What was their to be jealous about? A drunk woman, who surprisingly hasn't thrown up yet, ditched me to dance with a random man at a club. Hardly anything to get under your skin."

Jill lifted her chin high in the air. "I still stand by my reasoning."

A minute of silence passed before Wesker spoke again. "Although I question why, I have a great deal of respect for you." Coming to a stoplight, he slowed the car to a halt. "To be frank, I am disappointed in your behavior. It is hard to respect anyone when you see them in that state."

Jill turned towards Wesker in an attempt to see the human side of her captain. No matter what she did, like asking him to help her with pregnancy or drag him to a club, she never lost his respect - that sense of professionalism that made her Officer Jill Valentine and him, Captain Albert Wesker. In a word that was constantly changing around her, Wesker remained the same - constant. Jill wondered if one day she would run out of chances and Wesker would run out of patience, breaking their endless cycle of forgive-and-forget...remember but pretend not to.

Jill would never let that day come.

"Thank you."

"For earlier?" Wesker asked, making Jill wonder if he was hoping she would give in and tell him he was right for scaring the life out of Ernie.

"For not thinking any less of me."

Jill hated to admit it -for she usually didn't care about what other people thought of her- but when it came to Albert Wesker, there was always a sense of failure when he looked at her in a degrading light. During her S.T.A.R.S. career, she refused to be intimidated by his harsh bluntness or cold stares. Jill aimed to prove him wrong; she could carry her weight and everyone else if need be. When the captain gave Alpha team an acknowledgment of success, it boosted all of their self confidence. He was somewhat of an idol in their eyes. An unnecessarily threatening, cruel and apathetic jackass of a boss who probably ate bowls of nails and glass for breakfast, but still their idol.

Do not expect an explanation because we don't have one.

"With the state you are in right now, I wouldn't think of it." The light turned green and the car hummed to life. There was a sense of everything falling back into place until Wesker spoke again. "You can always deal with the consequences during training."

"Training?" Jill repeated, feeling her muscles ache at the thought.

The corner of Wesker's lip turned up into a somewhat-cruel smirk. "You have to redeem yourself somehow from this drunken mess."

There was a loud _**thump**_ when Jill's forehead made contact with the dashboard. Wesker patted her on the back patronizingly before returning his full attention to the road. Jill sent a glare in his direction before lying back in her seat and groaning about her headache.

"Valentine, you never fail to amuse me."

"Oh, shut up, _Amanda_."

"Don't. Start."

...

If there was one thing that Wesker failed to have control of, it was his emotions. This is not to say that Wesker skipped and tossed rose petals when he was in a good mood or that he would bawl during a sad movie, but his anger (as shown in the Joseph incident) was easily triggered and hard to extinguish. The man in shades exerted quite a bit of self-control during his time with S.T.A.R.S., especially since he was dealing with, in his own words:

1) A retard with an anger problem that matched his own.

2) A wimp who had yet to get over his fear of the dark.

3) A woman who didn't seem to understand when to shut up and listen to her superiors like she is paid to do.

4) A pervert that likes sleeping on the job and, apparently, running up the streets of Raccoon City in his bandanna and boxers.

5) A sandwich-crazed man who emphasizes every second word and has a gun collection in his basement.

The self-control trigger in Wesker was released when Jill attempted to walk to her front door unassisted.

_**Thud.**_

"Ow..."

Wesker's jaw popped. Frustration created deep creases in his forehead as he made his way over to Jill.

"I had no idea that alcohol could cause a person's legs to cease function." He said the words calmly, a paradox to the weight of sarcasm each word bore. Her arm was swung around his shoulders and she was lifted from the ground.

Jill mumbled something incoherent and slumped against his form. The excessive drinking was taking its toll and all she could focus on was puking her guts up, lying down on her bed and sleeping. Unfortunately, her stomach refused to empty its contents and she wasn't even inside her house yet.

"Where's the key?"

Jill failed to comprehend. "Er, key?"

"Yes, Jill, key. What you put in a_ lock _to _open_ a _door_," Wesker told her slowly, as if it would help her understand.

Jill, puzzled, searched her field of vision for where she hid her key. Nothing turned up. "Are you sure I even_ have _a key?" she asked. Obviously, she asked the wrong question. Wesker's self-control breached its limits. With a growl escaping through his gritted teeth, he swiftly kicked the door open, shoving it back into the wall with his shoulder as he dragged in Jill.

"What was that? I could have just picked the lock-"

"Something tells me that if you can barely stand, you won't be able to break into your own house," Wesker retorted, using the same foot to slam the door shut so hard the house shook. They were inside for a moment when Jill began giggling. Wesker arched an eyebrow. Jill snorted.

"Wesker's gonna take me to bed," Jill squeaked, breaking into a fit of laughter. She jabbed her finger into Wesker's chest. "Bet you never thought I'd say _that_!"

"Yes," Wesker hissed through a phony grin. "The charm of your alcohol-induced blabbing knows no bounds." He quickly analyzed the room. There was a new obstacle in the way.

"Is your bedroom upstairs?"

Jill nodded slightly.

"After what I dealt with tonight, there is no way I am carrying you up a flight of stairs." They started towards the living room. "You will have to make do with the couch."

"As long as I'm off my feet," came Jill's slurred reply. Propping a throw pillow behind her head, she curled her legs up to her stomach. She opened her eyes, blinked, and indicated for Wesker to sit down.

"Will you be fine on your own?" Wesker felt like he should ask. Her skin looked even more pale in the dim light. He watched her lick her dry lips, trying to find the right words to answer with.

"Could you..." There was a long pause before Jill got the nerve to continue. "Could you stay...until I fall asleep...please?"

"I suppose," Wesker answered, not wanting to leave her by herself in her condition. She might try to hide it, but she was visibly shaken from the night's events. Wesker wasn't shaken, but he was certainly exhausted. He wanted to go to sleep himself.

"Can I confide in you, just tonight?" Jill implored.

"Hm."

"I always felt like my dad blamed me for my mother's death."

Wesker's head moved slightly to the side, showing her that he was listening. What he didn't reveal was that he already knew of what happened to her parents; it was in her file. Considering the situation, Wesker kept quiet.

"My mother died in childbirth...having me," Jill continued. "He never said it outright, but I always felt like there was resentment between us. I hate him, and...I know he hates me, too. Maybe if my mother lived, we would have acted like a proper family. I know he loved my mother. I want to love him, but...after what he did..." Her voice trailed off. Wesker filled in the blanks with what he knew.

"I got a tattoo in honor of her," Jill added. "It's on my back. I got it when I was sixteen.

"My dad liked talking about her. Her pretty green eyes and brown hair; how she was religious and loved butterflies."

Jill managed to sit up, pulling the back of her tube top up to reveal a black and blue monarch fluttering on top of a golden cross. Wesker was impressed with the work. Whoever did her tattoo did a magnificent job. It looked _decent_. It was a rare instance where Wesker didn't see it as trashy.

Maybe because it was symbolic.

"I never wanted to forget what I knew about her. All I ever knew of my mother was from my dad. It's all I have to hold on to." Jill fixed her top and lied back down, letting out a drunken chuckle. "Pathetic, huh?"

Wesker's arms crossed his chest as he leaned back, watching her from behind tinted lenses. "Would you go back? Never have it done?"

Jill's eyebrows furrowed together. She never regretted that tattoo. "No."

"Then, no, it is not pathetic."

Jill pondered. Her mind's processes were running slower, but the well-greased gears still turned.

"One thing."

Wesker, undoubtedly after rolling his eyes, spoke. "Explain."

"Tell me one thing no one else in S.T.A.R.S. knows," Jill said doggedly. Her voice was determined, but her eyes _begged_. Wesker took pleasure in the sudden desperate look in her eyes and reveled in it, not saying one thing to her. When she never protested, he glanced at her only to see she had fallen asleep.

Even in the dark realms of her dreams, a part of Jill could have sworn he told her something, too.

* * *

**Preview for next chapter:**

**The night may be finished, but things are still a mess. Where's Joseph? What happened to Claire in Europe? When does Wesker donate anything? Why am I asking YOU all these questions? Find out in the next chapter - The Morning After.  
**


	9. The Morning After

**Here's the next chapter! :D **

**Disclaimer: Jill Valentine was never nor ever will be a sandwich.  
**

* * *

The worst thing about drinking is the morning after.

Jill's limbs were as heavy as cement as she tried to move off the couch. After three failed attempts, she finally got up on her feet. The first thing that came to her mind was changing her clothes; how she managed to sleep through the night in a tube top, mini-skirt and boots was beyond her comprehension.

Jill went upstairs to her bedroom, opting to change in to a tank top and cotton shorts. Forget appearance; comfort was her top priority at the moment.

The neatness of her bed sheets caught Jill's eye. She could have sworn she didn't bother make her bed up the day before. She shrugged; the alcohol probably erased her memory of that, too. Ignoring the heaviness that still weighed in her gut, Jill decided to go into the kitchen and grab a few Advil- heaven knows she needed it.

Once in the kitchen, Jill searched her cupboards for the pills and successfully retrieved them.

"Good morning."

"Oh, morning, Wesker."

The pills were in her hand, ready to be swallowed, when it reality finally hit her like a subway train.

"...Wesker?"

"Yes?"

The image of her captain sitting at her kitchen table, eating her food and drinking out of her mug was hard for Jill to process. _And now for the six-million-dollar question and an exclusive edition of our home game: __**why the hell is he in your house?**_

"Why are you here?"

Wesker rested his chin on the back of his hands. "I gave you a ride home last night. By the time I could leave, it was better to stay here than to drive. I slept in your bedroom, thought you wouldn't mind, especially with a hang-over."

Knowing he was in places that Jill considered private territory made her fume. Her bedroom wasn't just where she slept: it was her escape from the world...and a place to toss her dirty laundry in.

"You had no right to go in my room," Jill said. She ran the tap and filled a glass with water to take her Advil with. She shoved the pills down her throat and took a seat across from Wesker. "How would you like it if I slept in your bed?"

Wesker deviously smirked as he gave her his full visual attention. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Is that an invitation, Valentine?"

Jill was stone-faced. "Is that an attempt at humor?" she retorted, sounding as dimensional as cardboard.

"I try," was his answer. What Jill wouldn't give to snatch the sunglasses off his nose and snap them in half.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed that he was eating her leftovers: plain, cold spaghetti noodles. Not only did the thought leave a bad taste in her mouth, but it only added to the list of what made Albert Wesker, in Jill's book, the most confusing person she ever came in contact with.

"You're eating cold noodles."

Wesker spun his fork in the mess of noodles until they were perfectly wounded. "My, you are observant."

"That's disgusting," Jill spat. The man sure knew had to wear out his welcome.

"It's an acquired taste," Wesker explained, scooping up the last few noodles left in the bowl with his fork. Once they slid down his throat and into his stomach, he added: "Bravo is out on a mission."

"Mission? What kind?"

"Search and rescue. Apparently, a couple hiking in the Arklay Mountains didn't come back to their cabin and their friends were worried they got lost. I managed to get a hold of Enrico before they left the station and he said that it is pretty routine. I doubt they will need our help."

"Good." Jill rubbed her temples with her fingertips, trying to soothe the hammering in her head. "I don't think I could handle anything today."

"I wish I could say the same," Wesker placed the bowl in the sink and leaned across the counter-top, prompting Jill to turn and face him, "I have that examination today."

Jill really didn't need to think about _that_ right now. She entered the kitchen area as well, seeing that Wesker had helped himself to her coffee, and made her own. "I was talking to Dr. Cane yesterday before I went to Rebecca's. If everything goes according to plan, I will be inseminated on August 7th."

"Nearly two weeks from now," Wesker informed her.

"Yeah." Jill poured cream into coffee, watching the cream swirl in the black until it turned to a warm golden-brown. "Two weeks."

Only two weeks until a baby was conceived.

_Her _baby.

Her and _**Captain Wesker's **_baby.

The cup of coffee was abandoned on the counter as Jill flew to the sink and puked. Wesker made the kind, yet hesitant gesture of holding her hair back as she gagged.

**...**

"Chris, what are you doing here?"

"Got anything for a headache?"

The redness in his eyes and dark stubble on his jawline told Jill that Chris was just in bad as shape as she was. Jill stepped aside, closing the door behind him. She knew just what he needed: Advil and water. From the dryness in his voice, a _lot _of water.

Chris took the glass of water with eagerness. "Thanks, Jilly."

"No problem." Jill tossed a bag filled with the tiny red pills into his free hand. "Better keep those handy, too."

"I will, don't worry. Sorry for dropping in; you probably feel as crappy as I do."

"That's the understatement of the century," Jill said, laughing. "I think I could sleep all day if I had the chance."

Chris nodded in agreement. "I had it worse: Claire was on my back for hours for getting drunk."

Jill laughed again. "You mean the ex-party animal of Raccoon City? Guess she's not a little girl anymore."

"No, but she's still my little sister."

Jill admired the relationship between the siblings. They always looked out for each other, no matter what. Maybe because they were all each other had; they were orphaned at a young age. It seemed like only yesterday Chris was helping Claire get her driver's license and Claire faked a pregnancy to prank Chris.

Ah, families.

"I'll have to talk to her soon. I bet she has lots of stories to tell about Europe."

"Yeah," Chris murmured, looking down at the floor. It was a tell-tale sign that meant there was something else on his mind. Chris fiddled with his empty glass before making eye-contact.

"So, you got home alright?"

A burst of heat burned the back of Jill's neck. She secretly prayed he hadn't witnessed Wesker turning into a thug and beating up a drunk. "Uh, yeah, why?"

**Meanwhile...**

Upstairs, Wesker had been getting ready to use Jill's shower. He would change in to clean clothes later. He couldn't stand going through his day without showering, even if it meant having to use Jill's strawberry shampoo. He shuddered at the thought of what body wash she used; hopefully something that didn't smell like fruit.

Wesker only managed to peel off his turtleneck when he heard the front door open and close. He opened the bathroom door a crack, slid into the hallway, and listened to the voices coming from below. They immediately registered.

_Just what I need, _Wesker thought bitterly, _Jill's little lost puppy jumping to conclusions._

A very evil thought struck Wesker. What better way to get under his skin than leaving him to his imagination? The worst things you see, after all, are the things you come up with yourself.

Wesker waited for the right moment to enter. When the time was right, he made his way down the stairs. "Jill, where are the towels?"

Chris' body seized up. The only thing he was capable of was craning his neck around to match the voice with the face. Wesker stood before them, leaning one arm against the wall, looking natural as ever. His signature sunglasses sat in their rightful place as Chris' shocked expression reflected in the lenses.

_Why is __**he **__here? _Chris' mind exploded. _And where the hell is his shirt?_

Jill didn't seem to think much of it. "Under the counter."

"I checked there."

Jill sighed. "I'll show you myself." She led Wesker upstairs and something compelled Chris to follow them. He neared the staircase only to look up and see Wesker leaning over the banister, smirking at him from above.

"Hang-over, Chris?" Wesker asked. "You don't look so good."

"Wesker, they were under the counter!" Jill yelled from the bathroom.

"Stay there, I'll check myself!" Wesker called back. His attention returned to Chris.

"What business do you have here, _sir_?" Chris asked, each word sounding poisonous.

Wesker's smirk grew wider. Classic Chris Redfield: stormy eyes, set jaw, disapproving frown. Just what Wesker wanted - a reaction.

"Some things should be left as private, don't you think?" Wesker retorted, a hint of malice slipping in. "I think the better question is: why are _you_ still here?"

"It's called a visit," Chris shot back, "but you're not really the visiting type as far as I know."

Wesker leaned further over the banister, letting Chris get full view of the ice-colored irises hiding behind sunglasses. "Poor, delusional Chris...someone has to keep her bed warm."

Chris' blood ran cold. Jill would never...no, he was just trying to get him going.

It was working.

He peeked upwards only to catch Wesker with a triumphant grin. He won, like always. Chris' eyes drifted to his feet as Wesker continued to the second floor, conversing with Jill as if nothing happened.

Now that he thought about it, everything pointed to it: Wesker's car in the driveway, his being there in the same clothes from the night before, Jill's hesitation to talk about getting a ride home...

_Probably because she got a lift from Wesker and they were both drunk and thought it would be a great idea to fool around so Wesker seduced her like he does with all the new employees and Jill fell for it because she likes blonde guys and always had a secret crush on him so they headed upstairs and...they..._

_..._

_That perverted PRICK!_

His blood boiled with rage as Chris charged up the steps and to the bathroom, wanting to gag at the site of Jill stuffing multiple towels into Wesker's arms as he taunted her to the point where she jokingly swatted his arm. The whole scene made Chris' skin crawl.

"So, Jill, did you have any help _sobering up_?"

Jill's head jerked around to see Chris standing in the doorway. Her smile faltered when she saw the lethal look in his eyes. "What are you trying to get at?"

Chris' eyes darted to Wesker, who was suddenly playing dumb. "I don't know," he began, letting his anger get the best of him. "Got any regrets about last night?"

Ernie's face came to mind and a knot formed in Jill's gut. He must have found out. "A few, actually."

"What, like sleeping with the captain? Was that one of them?" Chris shouted, pointing an accusing finger in their direction. Jill and Wesker exchanged puzzled expressions.

"What are you raving about?" Wesker asked tetchily.

Chris laughed in disbelief. "I heard straight from the horse's mouth. 'Someone has to keep her bed warm,' remember?"

Jill, lost, asked what was going on.

"Chris has got it in his head that we slept together last night," Wesker explained, gesturing in Chris' direction.

Jill was disgusted. "Thanks for having some faith in me, Chris. And no, I didn't sleep with the captain; he just stayed the night because it was late."

The suspicious look in Chris' eyes began to dissolve. His eyes fell on Jill as he thought about what Wesker said. _He made it sound like they had a one-night stand. What if nothing happened? He probably wanted to make me look like an idiot - and succeeded of course. _

"I thought-"

"Well, that's a change from the norm," Jill interrupted, obviously hurt by his earlier accusations. "Who do you think you are, coming into my house and asking me about my sex life?"

"It's just that from the way Wesker was talking, you two-"

"I don't care about what Wesker said! You know me better than that, or at least I thought you did." Hurt swiftly changed to anger. "I don't want to see you anymore today. Get out."

"What?"

"Out!" Jill shouted, shoving him out in the hall. "Just get out!"

Chris gave up on trying to apologize. Wanting to kick himself for letting Wesker getting the better of him, he willingly left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Jill growled and slammed the bathroom door shut. She turned on her heel and faced Wesker. "Don't think I'm letting you off the hook!"

"What did I do?" Wesker asked in a not-so-innocent tone.

"You said something that provoked him, didn't you? Chris isn't one to jump to a conclusion unless he is given a push."

"Excellent deduction, Jill," Wesker complimented. "That was my intention, anyway. Seems he had a shorter fuse than I thought."

Jill's clenched fingers reached in his direction but she stopped herself. She let out another growl. "Just..have your shower and get to your appointment!" Her eyes fell upon his bare chest. "And will you, for the love of God, put on a shirt before you poke somebody's eye out?"

"If I'm that much of a health hazard, I will."

Stomping out of the bathroom, Jill leaned against the door and took a breather. All the yelling wore her out and only increased the sharp pain in her head. She certainly wasn't looking forward to a confrontation with Chris anytime soon, especially after she thought about what had got him going in the first place.

For her own sake, Jill didn't dwell on it.

...

It was well in to the afternoon when Jill's phone rang. She was relieved to hear Claire on the other end.

"So, are you gonna fill me in on what happened between you and Chris? He came back in an awful mood."

Jill released a long-repressed sigh. "I don't really feel like explaining. Chris jumped to conclusions and I put him in his place."

"You know Chris," Claire said, "too hot-blooded for his own good."

"I don't want to talk about him anyway." Jill swiftly changed the topic. "What did you call for?"

"Chris filled me in about Joseph going AWOL." Jill swore she could hear the smile in Claire's voice. "Guess who I just saw."

...

"Your examination hasn't raised any concerns," Dr. Cane told Wesker, "and neither has your blood and urine results."

Wesker was ready to leave as soon as possible. He was eager to get it all behind him. "When will I donate anything, exactly?"

"Ms. Valentine's appointment, as I'm sure you know, is August 7th. The sooner you do your job, the better."

"How's tomorrow?"

Dr. Cane filled through his schedule book. As Wesker observed, he tried to soothe the knot forming in the back of his neck. He wasn't looking forward to having it done, but at least it would be behind him.

That's what mattered.

...

Jill was gobsmacked at the sight of Joseph Frost roaming the crowded streets of Raccoon Street in nothing but his trademark red bandanna and -wait for it-

"Oh, hey Jill!" Joseph called, trotting over to the two women. His grin broadened when he saw Claire. "When you did you get back, Carol?"

"Claire," she corrected. Her eyes drifted to his feet and slowly made their way back up. "Uh, what's with the...wedding dress?"

Joseph opened his mouth to answer, but only to become dumbfounded. "I...don't...know."

Jill wrapped an arm around his shoulders and sandwiched Joseph between her and Claire. "Come on, let's see if we can find the church."

Seeing Joseph's face light up made Jill and Claire laugh. The three walked side-by-side down Ivy's street, passing a tattoo parlor along the way. Jill's memory kicked into over-drive as she had a near-spasm attack in the middle of the crowded street.

"Jill, are you okay?"

Jill shoved Joesph onto Claire. "I just remembered something. I got to go, but make sure Joseph gets home and that he stays there!"

"You're just going to ditch me!"

"You're not coming to the wedding!" Joseph exclaimed, clearly intent on nothing but his wedding dress and everything wedding-related. Claire and Jill exchanged looks for a brief moment before Jill darted up the street.

"...I didn't even get to tell her about Europe."

...

Wesker was never caught off-guard until he met the members of Alpha Team.

Oh, how he rued that day now.

He managed to get three feet out of the door before Jill pounced him with the ferocity and deadly accuracy of a leopard. Wesker was not impressed.

"Something wrong?" Wesker snapped.

Jill tried to answer but suddenly hunched over, trying to catch her breath after sprinting across the city to catch him. She straightened up and tried again. "You have a tattoo!"

Wesker's stone mask cracked, just a little. "I do not."

"You do! You told me last night; I only remembered just now." Jill reigned victorious, enjoying the feeling while it lasted. "Thought I'd blacked out, didn't you?"

"To my misfortune, it appears I was wrong," Wesker said, mentally adding: _which is something rare, indeed. _The smugness returned. "At least I can take pleasure in watching you drive yourself absolutely insane trying to figure out what my tattoo is of."

Jill paled. She didn't consider that factor. She didn't think about at all! What _did _get the honor of being inked in Captain Wesker's skin? She would have to ask around, _someone_ had to know!

"And since you're here," Wesker continued, breaking her train of thought, "I'm donating tomorrow."

"Wow," was all Jill could think of. She was almost rendered speechless at how everything was starting to speed up. It wasn't a countdown anymore, it was practically upon them. "Well, better to get it over with, I suppose."

The sad thing was: it didn't even _start_ yet.

* * *

**Will Jill finally get pregnant within the next few chapters? Well, if everything goes according to plan, that's how it looks. But what's going on around them? Chris and Jill are at odds, Joseph is in a wedding dress, and apparently Claire has a lot to tell about her travels in Europe. How will this all end? Stay tuned!**

**Hope you liked the chapter :)**


	10. Time

**WHAT IS THIS DEAR READERS? AN UPDATE? DEAR GOD OF PANTLEGS!**

**Yes, I thought since summer had begun, I would have had more time in the nights to type up this story and update faster. But, of course, that didn't work out too well XD I've been busy with the summer weather and trying to get together with friends so I had to neglect the computer for pretty much everything else.**

**Okay, here is REAL PROGRESS. And I've set up the rest of the story in this chapter! -high-fives wall- I FEEL GOOD.**

**Disclaimer: Wesker is a natural blonde, no matter what rumors you hear.**

* * *

**The following day:**

Alpha team worked steadily throughout the early morning hours. While there were many small tasks always needing to be done, it was the evening that mainly consisted of sitting at their desks, playing cards or waiting for a signal on the emergency broadcaster. It became evident that it was going to be a blackjack evening.

Jill, having finished maintenance duty, was returning to the S.T.A.R.S. office when a hand grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around.

"Claire? What are you doing here?"

The redhead blew a loose strand of hair out of her weary face. Alongside Claire was Joseph Frost, still maintaining both bandanna and wedding dress.

"Here, take him!" Claire sputtered breathlessly, throwing Joseph like a projectile in Jill's arms.

Jill was thankful for her quick reaction time, managing to catch Joseph and stand him upright. She digested Claire's appearance, and, if she was truthful, she looked like hell. "What happened to you?"

Claire jabbed an accusing finger in Joseph's direction. "THAT kept getting away from me and searched the whole city for priests! I still feel bad for that rabbai - Joseph just HAD to go and make him cry."

Jill changed the topic as swiftly as possible. "I'm sorry about leaving you with him yesterday. I didn't think he was _this _bad off."

"Well, whatever you guys did to him, reverse it," Claire's tone turned deadly, "_now_."

Taking note of the lethal look burning in Claire's eyes, Jill decided to move Joseph out of eyesight. "I'll see to that right away." Linking arms with the now-mute Frost, Jill turned to Claire and smiled. "Doing anything tonight? I heard you have some stories to tell about Europe."

"That I do," Claire chuckled, her tired face brightening. "I'll give you a call."

"Right. Oh, and thanks for delivering our package," Jill teased, gesturing to Joseph to her side. Claire simply shook her head and left the precinct.

**Meanwhile...**

Brad was one to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself. Yet, even the introverted Brad Vickers couldn't help but watch Wesker stare ahead absently, twisting the same piece of paper in his hands until it ripped in two. It was a sheer reminder of the power rippling underneath the flesh. It unnerved him a bit.

"Are you feeling okay, Captain?"

Wesker continued to stare ahead. His hands found another slip of paper and began to twist it to its limit. "Yes, just fine. Thank you for your concern, Bill."

"It's Brad."

"Right." _Rip. _"My apologies."

It was better to stay clear of the captain for the day. Even Chris, still sore for what occurred the day before, was wary to keep from being snarky with him. Whatever Wesker was musing on, it was bothering him. That alone made Chris feel better.

It didn't help Wesker's mood when Jill entered the office with Joseph attached to her hip.

"Do you think the alien race is responsible for the making of this dress?"

"If you mention that stupid wedding dress one more time, I _swear_-"

Jill was cut off by a low growl coming from the back of the room. The Alpha team members slowly looked at their captain, whose attention was solely on Joseph.

"That..._thing_ is alive?" Wesker reproached, pronouncing each syllable slowly.

The others nodded cautiously.

Wesker pondered for a moment. He caved in. "The wedding dress?"

"He saw it in a thrift shop. He's been hunting down priests, rabbis and alien life-forms ever since he got loose."

"I think he's going to need a medical expert," Chris voiced.

"Right," Barry agreed. "Let's call Rebecca."

**...**

"Rebecca, are you my sister?"

"No, Joseph, I'm not your sister."

"...Can you pretend you are?"

Chris let his head fall back and groaned. "Rebecca, _please_ tell us that you can something about this."

Rebecca gave Joseph another look-over while trying to get him to sit still. Finally, she saw the swelling on the back of his head. "Oh, this will be easy. Where's that stapler you hit him with, Captain?"

Once he successfully retrieved it, Wesker walked over to Rebecca, wielding the dented object in his hand. "Are you going to do what I think you are going to do?" he asked.

She nodded in response. "It's what they do in the movies."

"Can that object communicate with the alien beings above?" Joseph questioned, eying the stapler like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Yes, this stapler has the compacity to connect you with the mother-ship. Close your eyes and when you open them, you will be with the voices."

Joseph delusionally closed his eyes. "How do I know when I'm th-"

**THWACK!**

Joseph nearly fell off the chair and onto the ground. Rebecca quickly managed to shove him back on to the chair as his eyes fluttered open.

"Ugh," was the first thing he managed to utter, "my head...what happened?" He glanced down. "_Why am I wearing a dress_?"

"It's a long, painful story, my friend, one I'm sure you won't want to remember," Chris explained. "C'mon, I'll take you home; I don't think anyone will object if you rest today."

Rebecca intercepted them. "I'll give him a drive. His house is on the way."

Knowing Joseph was in safe hands, the others said their goodbyes as the medic and Alpha member left. When their attention returned to the current state of affairs, they realized their captain was getting ready to leave as well.

"I have an appointment booked," Wesker stated in a tone that warned against anyone asking questions. He grabbed his bag and neared the door. "Barry, you're in charge while I'm gone. My pager will be on so do not hesitate to alarm me of a situation. As for the rest of you, follow his orders."

Wesker left the room without looking back, closing the door behind him with finality. Alpha team was reduced to four members: Barry, Brad, Chris and Jill. The three men cracked jokes about what Wesker was really up to. They didn't notice that as they laughed, Jill kept her gaze locked on the door, a conflicted look dawning on her face.

"What do you think, Jill?"

Hearing her name tore her eyes from the door to the three grinning faces. Chris pointedly waved his hand in her direction. "Well, why do you think the Boss Man left in such a hurry?"

A biting comment lurked on the tip of her tongue but she thought better of it; she had begrudgingly forgiven Chris and didn't want to start another fight. So, she smiled.

"I wish I could say." With that said, Jill turned in her chair and stared at her desk, letting her fake smile dissolve.

...

One hour and twenty minutes later, Wesker emerged from the sperm bank. He moved like a robot to his car as if his mind was disconnected from his body. Once seated behind the wheel, Wesker pondered the consequences of his actions. He had willingly handed over what would soon create a child.

_How can this stay a secret forever? How do you keep a curious child at bay?_

One question lingered in his mind, and it made Wesker regret his hasty decision.

_How do you pretend you are not a father?_

...

When the door opened and Wesker returned, Jill's heart pounded like a drum. Her calm eyes shook with anticipation and uncertainty. Wesker, after observing it was only him and Jill in the S.T.A.R.S. office, met her stare. He only held it for a moment before striding by her and sitting at his desk. Jill stayed in place, not even turning to face him.

Neither said anything.

Jill wanted to ask him everything, but the stubborn streak in her refused to give in first. She sat in silence, only listening to the sounds of his chair creaking under his weight and the shuffling of papers.

"The genetics of my family have a history of being dominant."

Jill was as still as a statue, waiting with baited breath.

"Just..." She wanted to smirk at the mere thought of Wesker being flustered, or even worse, at a loss of what to say. "Don't be surprised if it comes out with blond hair."

Jill was left speechless, yet appreciative of his not-so-subtle confirmation that he went through with the donation. The person she often imagined as an evil man with little feeling was the same contradictory of a man who set her troubles at ease time and time again. She wondered who was graced with this side of him every day, let alone in tense and rare occasions.

_Was _there anyone?

"Never hurts to have a blondie in the family," she remarked, only loudly enough for him to barely hear. She waited for him to respond with an insult or sarcastic comment but received nothing.

In the silence, however, Jill still smiled a true smile, finally comforted that while Wesker was a wearer of masks, she was able to see underneath them and probe at the vulnerable human underneath. She was immune to masks, being one to wear them herself.

Jill stood up at her desk and faced her superior, trying to find the right words to voice her appreciation. "Captain..."

Wesker looked up from his work, a sign for her to continue.

Jill opened her mouth to speak when Chris, Brad and Barry entered, carrying take-out the three had ordered earlier.

"Here you go," Barry said in his booming voice, handing Jill her order, "chicken sub: whole wheat, no tomato."

"We asked for Jill sandwiches, but they had ran out."

Jill rolled her eyes at the over-used private joke and laughed. "Ha ha. Hilarious, Christopher."

Chris' grin dropped when he saw Wesker. He cleared his throat. "How'd your appointment go?"

"Fine."

That was all Chris needed to hear. Barry and Jill exchanged looks before sitting beside each other and eating. They had a tendency to stick close to each other and share their troubles, which Jill was thankful for. Barry became the father figure that was absent in her life. If there was one person she trusted with her life, it was him.

Chris sat down on the other side of Barry, as if he was using the large man as a barrier between himself and Jill. Brad was slower to come, only sitting beside Jill when she asked him to. The four, side-by-side, ate their food. Their captain opened a binder and went through a checklist.

It was a mundane, but somehow different workday.

**...**

"Okay, there's my eleven dollars gone. _Now_ may we leave?"

A disgruntled Chris defeatedly let his cards fall on to the desk. Brad had rose triumphant in the last three games, leaving Chris and Barry out of pocket change. He hated to lose, but it was unlikely he would ever admit it. "Yeah, let's go."

From the background, Jill watched Chris stomp off with amusement. She knew that part of the reason he hated losing so many times in cards that night was because he had lost to Brad. The man was not as accepted in the group as all the others were; he often played the role of the outsider, something Jill both pitied and despised. It was satisfying to see Brad smile goodnaturedly, knowing he was the victor against someone who teased him mercilessly. Barry had been in on the cards as well, but he never took part in Brad's ridicule nor ever played the sore loser. Maybe it was because he was older and wiser than the rest, or maybe he just didn't care.

Barry followed Chris at the door, closely followed by Brad. As it always was as of late, Jill and Wesker remained. But this time, there was no revelations of the warped situation they found themselves swamped in; no fights involving bitter insults that crossed lines and so much sarcasm, it threatened to flood the room; no moment where they found each other on middle ground - there was only a stale silence that felt extremely absent compared to the sounds of life that were so imminent a few minutes before.

Her mind focused on Claire, Jill packed up her bag and headed to the locker room, ready to change out of uniform and track her friend down.

When the door closed and Wesker was finally alone, he let that dreaded stone mask he wore so often fall off. He snatched his sunglasses and flung them, ignoring that they were horribly expensive and that they landed on the floor harder than intended.

Wesker shook his head in disgust, scowling. "You're welcome."

**...**

"I still don't understand why you insist on staying with me."

"Can you believe this, Jill?" Claire scoffed, "I'm in Europe for, what, nearly a month? When I return - my brother tries to keep me at a distance!

"You were never so keen on bonding like this before."

"Well, being gone for so long tends to show you who you miss the most." Claire used her manipulative "dear little sister" powers and wrapped her arms around her older brother. "Of course, you would be at the top of that list."

Chris' resolve immediately began to weaken, and Claire and Jill took note of it. "Alright, alright; stay here if you want."

Jill saw Claire jubilantly smile and hug her brother even tighter. Something about that smile didn't sit right with her. _It was too happy, too...relieved_, she thought. _No one would be that ecstatic to share a cramped apartment with their brother._

She heard Chris yawn loudly before he bid them both goodnight. As soon as he was in his bedroom, Claire landed on the couch beside Jill and entered rant mode: legs crossed, back propped up with pillows, arms and fingers ready to make any hand gestures ready.

Their conversation mainly surrounded the various places Claire saw and what she remembered vividly. She rambled on about the Colosseum in Rome and how she stood in the very spot Julius Caesar's body was burned. She mentioned her detour through Switzerland and the huge crowds of people in St. Petersburg. Jill listened intently, nodding at some points and laughing at others. She only wished she had the same experiences she did. Jill could barely remember the last time she went outside Raccoon City. Here she saw at age thirty, and she had only took one vacation out of the country her whole life. She wasn't exactly a well-traveled woman.

"That's not the best part though." Claire's eyes fogged over, as if she had translated into the nostalgia of her memories. "I met so many people - kinds of people I thought I never would get a chance to talk to. I don't think I will ever forget their faces..."

"You met people, huh? Are you sure you didn't meet _someone_?" Jill prodded, ready for any juicy information she could get.

Claire failed to suppress the uncharacteristically shy smile forming on her lips. "Yes, I did-"

"Chris' gone to bed - so you have no excuse not to give me all the details. Tell me all about him! What's he like?"

"...Unexpected...a surprise, really." The words came forced at first, but the nostalgia took over once again. "Blond hair, chilly blue eyes..."

Jill began to picture Wesker in her mind instead of Claire's supposed Prince Charming. She was flustered at the utter thought that she would be thinking of _him _when that was the last thing she wanted to do. She was with Claire to chat about nonsensical things like men and trips and parties, not to be constantly reminded of the man she could not stand yet owed so much to.

_Why would I even begin to think about the way he looks at a time like this?_

"Jill! Earth to Jill!"

"...am I up to date?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh," Jill bit her lip but perked up instantly. "Well, keep ranting. I'm all ears!"

Claire quirked an eyebrow but didn't press the matter. It was obvious she enjoyed talking about this mystery man very much. "I really think this is the first real, I dunno, _love_ I've ever shared with someone."

"Will we be meeting this God of Testosterone or what?"

Claire fiddled with her hands, her eyes focusing on them instead of Jill. After a long pause, she spoke. "Actually...yes. In a few weeks."

Jill's eyes popped. "Really?" Claire nodded. "That should be interesting."

"I just hope you'll get along."

"Claire, I'm sure everyone will. Your brother may be protective, but he cares about your happiness more than anything else, you know that."

"Yeah," Claire said, softly. "I do."

Jill smiled, absently glancing at her wristwatch. The red numbers flashed 10:41 PM.

"Yikes, didn't mean to stay up this late!" Jill leapt from the couch, Claire following behind. Before she left, Jill couldn't help but ask: "If you don't me prying, why are you so desperate to stay over with Chris?"

"It's nothing!" Claire said a little too quickly. "It's not like I'm hiding an escaped convict or anything!"

Jill held up her hands, as if to defend herself. "Calm down, I was just wondering!"

Claire sighed. "It's just - you know how I mentioned how I met a lot of different kinds of people? Well, I didn't just see friendly faces and beautiful buildings. There was a lot of bad spots I had to steer clear of, and there was a lot of shifty people amidst the throngs of people. It just kind of brings you back to reality, you know?"

"Did anything happen to you?" Jill asked, concern replacing suspicion.

"No, nothing happened," Claire reassured. "But I'm not surprised so many people get hurt everyday."

Jill's mind more at ease, she gave her friend a hug and stood out in the hallway. "I'll see you soon then."

"'Night."

Jill didn't move until the apartment door closed and she heard the locks click. Claire was certainly right - there was enough crime in Raccoon City to show anyone that the world was filled with scum. But Jill was intrigued none the less. It wasn't only her life that was evolving, her friends' were as well. It was only then that it occurred to her just how fast time was beginning to fly by, and she wondered if she would be able to keep up.

* * *

**Jill's appointment is dawning on us fast - will the next chapter finally be the chapter where our beloved Jilly gets inseminated? Is Claire hiding something? And Wesker seems less than pleased...**

**I know this chapter is lacking in humor, but I really wanted to get some development out of the way. I tried, but the next chapter should make up for it!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	11. We're At This Point

**Hey, long time no see!**

**Man, this story can get hard to write. I love doing my humor, but this story keeps demanding some serious scenes. So yeah, I did try and squeeze in a few jokes here and there, but the chapter is pretty much a serious one compared to the others. And it really fast-forwards the plot :D You'll see.**

**So yeah, this story's not dead. Sorry about that. Life is hectic right now but I'm still writing, so don't worry too much :)**

**Disclaimer: Wesker's only gonna break break, b-break break yo' heart~! (Damn catchy songs..)**

* * *

**July 28th, Tuesday:**

The following day was scorching. The air conditioners were on full-power yet had minimal effect on the humidity that continued to grow worse and worse as the work day wore on. It didn't help the smog either, as Jill noticed once her and Wesker exited the R.P.D.

"You took off in a hurry last evening."

"Contrary to popular belief, Captain, I do have a life."

Wesker quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Most of the time, those who do have social lives have no problem finding someone to reproduce with."

Jill chastely hushed him. He didn't flinch at the ice forming on her words. "We're standing in the middle of a crowded street! Do you _want _every one to know?"

Wesker, always up for a verbal or physical fight, was meeting the end of his nerves due to the excessive heat. He could stand either freakishly hot or cold temperatures, but it had been a long time since he had to deal with them. To put it simply: he had lost his tolerance for them.

"Listen, you makeshift incubator," Wesker hissed, prompting an appropriately flustered expression from Jill. "I know you and your little work buddies think I got a stick up my ass and devote all my time in making your lives miserable, but I honestly do not care about anything that happens to any of you. I have more important things to do deal with, things more important than making sure you get knocked up."

Jill tried to interrupt his rant but immediately lost her voice when she peered over the frames of his signature sunglasses and saw the utter disdain in his pale irises. She gulped. He continued.

"Yet, there I was, sitting in the waiting room of a sperm bank so you would stop sulking and act like the proper S.T.A.R.S. member you were before. Then, when I return, do I get any gratitude? Do I receive any proper sign of thanks for doing something that can very well ruin my whole career - yours as well?" His eyes flashed. "No. Nothing. As I should have expected."

Jill was torn. She stood before him, accepting every insulting and degrading word he threw at her without fighting back. She wanted to shout at him - hit him even. Another side of her thought the complete opposite. In a way, she deserved the verbal beat-down she was getting. Would it have really been that hard to take a few minutes to thank him for everything he had done so far and see where he stood on the future implications of this horribly messed-up ordeal? Besides, it wasn't just her life that hung in the balance - he was _fathering _the child! This was the same man that thinks the best way to wake someone up if they fall asleep on the job is by bringing a stapler down on their head!

"Valentine!" Wesker barked, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Do you have anything to say about this?"

"Captain, I appreciate everything you have done. Saying 'thank you' isn't enough."

Wesker's mood showed no sign of improvement, so Jill decided to just damn herself to Hell already.

"You said you were doing this because I took those bullets for you. You never said anything about wanting something in return. What do you want?"

Wesker's expression remained neutral but nothing came out of his mouth. He took a deep breath and set his shoulders back - a defensive maneuver that Jill had come to recognize. The Berlin wall was coming back up. "You are changing the subject-"

"No, I'm not! I want to know. This was suppose to...I don't know...make everything equal between us: a life for a life. If you wanted something, you should have told me."

"I want nothing to do with this."

"Then why did you get involved in the first place?"

"Because watching you walk around with a permanent rain cloud over your head was getting on all of our nerves!"

Jill scoffed. "Oh, so you did all of this so I wouldn't lose my mentality? Is that it?"

"I'm afraid you lost that years ago, Valentine."

"At least I still have a heart!"

Like so many times before, the line was crossed again. Never mind that they were still standing outside the R.P.D. Never mind that they had been through all this before. Never mind that none of their questions were actually answered. They were back where they started: bickering, fighting, insulting, and hurting.

Wesker had certainly heard worse. Hell, most of the names he had been called over the years made what she just said seem like a declaration of love. But he was sick of it. In the last month their relationship had been more brutal than the five years they've worked side-by-side. It was too late to turn back now, but his part was done. He was done.

"Do not expect me to put up with your mood swings anymore," Wesker stated, slowly, warning her to listen and obey. "Do not expect me to keep you in line when you go off and behave like a child, and do not expect to have any further involvement in this."

Jill was silent, still.

He made his way past her, and she heard Wesker say something about training in a half-hour. Jill officially turned one person against her, they were having an outdoor training session on one of the hottest days of the summer yet, and she was going to have to work harder than the others to make up for her drunken night that had already effectively ruined whatever decent opinion her superior might have had of her before.

Jill slumped against the hot bricks. How would this situation ever improve?

**...**

*pant* "I should have..." *pant* "took a few more days off to rest..." *pant* "If I had known...we'd be doin' this..." *pant*

Joseph and Jill ran alongside each other around the running track behind the R.P.D. Before the training field had been built two years prior, they used the training room inside or took a ten-minute drive to one of the parks nearby. When the training field was finally completed, the hardworking men and women of the police department rejoiced, forgetting for a moment that they would be pushed to their limits on said field.

"I didn't expect you...to be back so soon," Jill replied, sucking in the dry hot air and immediately breathing it out. She was ready to collapse.

"You...know me, ambitious...and work-oriented!" panted Joseph. He tried to seem perky, but the sweat dripping down his chin and the sluggish movements of his body gave him away. Jill chuckled at his joke but it sounded more like she was choking.

Alpha team fell to their knees when their captain finally blew the whistle. Wesker's training methods were brutally harsh, but always effective. There were many times Jill wished they had Enrico do their training sessions, but from Bravo told them, Marini was just as bad. Not to say that they didn't participate themselves.

Jill stole a glance at her captain - a few blond strands of hair astray, athletic clothes just as sweaty as everyone else, sunglasses still resting on their rightful place on the bridge of his nose - and wondered if what she said before was what had hit him so hard, or did everything just accumulate to the point where even someone as well-together as Wesker couldn't handle it?

_No_, Jill thought. _Nothing would break him. It's like he's...not even human sometimes..._

Jill didn't dwell on it anymore. Wesker had just called push-ups. Alpha did so obediently.

**Later...outside the locker rooms...**

The cold water of the showers had helped to rid Jill of the sweat and dirt covering her skin and clothes but gave little relief to the aching of her muscles. Of course, after the third round of push-ups, Jill was ordered to do an extra _thirty-five_. No explanation was given and no explanation needed, in Jill and Wesker's cases anyway. The others were kept in the dark and agreed amongst themselves that it was better not to get involved.

Seeing Barry, Chris, Joseph and Brad standing outside the men's locker room door, Jill walked up to them with a smile. It was an amazing feat, since she felt like doing anything but smiling. "That feels a lot better!"

Brad chuckled. "Yeah...Wesker was exceptionally hard on us today."

Jill narrowed her eyes at her shoes. "Well, you know how he is. It's not a proper day unless he's pissed off everyone."

"You got that right," Joseph muttered, still bitter over what went down between him and his captain before. Jill noted how much more different he looked without his red bandanna on; he looked more grown-up when he showed off his blond hair.

"So, Jill, you gonna let us in on what's going on?" Chris interjected. The others didn't mind - they were quite interested to see what Jill had to say.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Wesker?" Barry pushed. Jill's twitched in to a smile. Barry was always protective of her, especially since she constantly had to put up with the men who made up her workforce.

"That's kinda been bugging me, too," Brad added. "He was glaring daggers at you all day. Did ya stab him with a pencil or something?"

Throwing all caution to the wind, Jill told them the absurd truth. "Wesker and I had this plan to get me pregnant and it didn't work out and since I never thanked him for his efforts he thinks I'm a bitch."

There was stunned silence - and then an eruption of laughter. It got to the point where Chris doubled over and could barely catch his breath.

"Okay, okay, you don't wanna tell us. We get it!" Joseph managed to squeeze out before bursting into laughter once again.

Jill was relieved and, oddly enough, slightly disappointed. With a shrug of her shoulders, she told them: "It's just the heat. And I happened to be the nearest thing he could take it out on. Tomorrow it will be one of you."

As she walked away, the men sobered up and thought about her warning. They decided it would be better to come in an hour late the next morning - just to make sure.

**...**

Three evenings later, and the heat continued to rise. Even the sun had gone down long ago, sweat still covered Wesker's body. Cursing the temperature under his breath, he made his way to the S.T.A.R.S. office to gather his things and lock up. Everyone else had gone home - no one in their right mind would put in overtime during heat like this.

Wesker arrived at his desk. He quickly emptied out the staff sheets he had to look over in to his bag and readied to leave. It was only out of the corner of his eye that he noticed an envelope on his desk. Inside was a note and a wad of cash.

_Captain Wesker-_

_I was told that the cost of an abortion was roughly this amount: $395.00. I've always wondered how they came up with that price, the worth of a life. Somehow they did._

_You gave me the chance to have a life, so I decided to pay you the worth of it. Consider us even now, if we weren't before._

_I'm sorry about the things I said, but someone needs to tell you that you aren't better than everyone else. You make mistakes, too. You've wronged me as many times as I've wronged you. When you can admit that like I can, then maybe we'll be alright after all._

_And I should have said this before: thank you. For everything._

_-J.V._

Wesker counted the bills to indeed find the exact amount in his hands. Wesker was never baffled, but the gesture had certainly surprised him.

Glancing around the strangely empty and lifeless office, Wesker sat on the front edge of his desk and stared at the cash in his hands. He had managed to catch every curb-ball that came in his direction. How did he not see this one coming for him?

**...**

The waiting room was busy with women. There were two or three men among the people moving in and out, but Jill noticed that most women who came through the sperm bank's doors came in alone.

Just like she had.

She stared at the appointment paper in her lap. _August 7th..._the date rang in her ears. Now that it was here, she wasn't going to run away, even if her stomach was ready to burst.

The last week had been rather uneventful. Claire and Rebecca had visited a few times. The only major concern at work was a call about a possible bomb in an abandoned library - it was a false alarm. Her co-workers joked, laughed and argued. All in all, it was the way life had always been for Jill.

Despite all this, she still thought Wesker would have came with her.

Ever since the argument, they only exchanged a few civil words here and there. It wasn't awkward or resentful - just too quick a change for things to resume to their default setting. There was nothing she could do about it. She paid him for his efforts and he was satisfied. Like he said, he had done his part. Still, it would have been nice to have someone by her side as she waited.

"Jill Valentine?" a nurse called.

Jill acknowledged her name and stood up. The nurse gestured down a hallway, waiting for Jill to take for the first step.

"Jill."

_It couldn't be._

She turned to her side only to see Wesker standing in front of the door.

"You came."

"I would hope so, seeing as I am standing here."

Jill was about to thank him when the nurse interjected.

"Miss Valentine, we must get you ready."

"I will wait here," Wesker assured her. "It will go fine."

Jill smiled. "For once, I hope you're right."

She followed the nurse down the hallway and disappeared from sight. Wesker sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a sense of finality by finally coming to this point. It took only one glance towards the woman beside him holding a newborn baby in her arms to make that feeling fade away.

* * *

**Hope to update faster next time! :)**


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